336 BC
by crazyundeadfairy
Summary: A sequel to Wandering Without set nearly a year after the first story.
1. Part I

**Part I**

It was not until Hephaestion took the scroll from him that Alexander realized he had been toying with it for so long. The letter from her was hardly the first and he knew that it would not be the last. From the very beginning of her exile to Epirus his mother had been writing to him; long rambling letters that he could not help but read. If he did not read them they would torment his mind until he at last gave in and read their contents.

"She will never say what you want her to," Hephaestion said as he dropped the letter onto his desk. "She will never apologize for any of it because she does not believe that she did anything that requires and apology."

"She nearly killed you!" Alexander blurted out before he could stop himself. "She wanted to kill you."

"And she failed."

The exchange was one that had repeated itself countless times in the year and a half that had passed since Hephaestion's abduction and incarceration in the Illyrian mine. Until his dying day, Alexander would never fully comprehend how Hephaestion could be near him knowing that it was his mother that was responsible for his suffering. Or that any of his kind, gentle Hephaestion remained after all the horrors he had endured.

There was also no denying the changes he had undergone. A hardness was evident in him where there had been none before. Hephaestion was no longer so quick to let slights go unmentioned; a fact which had earned Cassander a broken nose and several members of the Vanguard various bumps and bruises.

"You know there will be many more letters to come in the next few months," Hephaestion continued, pouring wine for both of them. "Cleopatra marries Alexandros soon and Eurydike will be delivering at any moment. It is the perfect time for her to begin stirring up trouble again."

"The midwife is predicting another girl," Alexander said, taking the cup from Hephaestion.

His love smirked as he sprawled on a nearby chaise. "If my father's tale is correct, the midwives said the same about you. And that you were such a pretty babe that the first thing Philip did when he saw you was tear aside your swaddling to check if you did indeed have a cock."

Alexander's attempt to appear affronted failed miserably when he began to sputter on his wine. Instead he glared at Hephaestion while alternately coughing and wiping at his suddenly teary eyes. It did not help much that Hephaestion was chuckling away between sips of his wine.

"You are an utter wretch," Alexander croaked as soon as he had the breath to d so. "And while I may have been the prettier babe, you are certainly the prettier man."

Hephaestion snorted, rolling his eyes at the comment. "You listen far too much to your sister's prattling. She only says such things because I happened to be about when that mutt of hers got into mischief."

"It is more than my sister who believes this," Alexander said, grinning at the way Hephaestion's cheeks flushed. "If you put your mind to it you could have any number of girls or boys about the palace."

"Well lucky for you I have no such inclinations," Hephaestion mumbled, lifting the cup once again to his lips. "Though others may think me mad for it, I am content where I am."

Alexander grinned, allowing Hephaestion to have the final word. Hephaestion was not one to speak of his emotions often so Alexander held tight to each one. Yet even without Hephaestion speaking the words, Alexander was never in doubt of the other man's love. Hephaestion could make his affections perfectly clear with nothing more than a look. With a touch he was even more expressive.

"You know that I have no intention of marrying yet, right?" Alexander said a few moments later. With his sister's coming nuptials, his father was often hinting that he should get himself a legitimate heir.

Hephaestion smiled fondly at him. "At some point you will have to marry. I have always known this. It is impossible for you not to take a wife."

"Do you think Patroclus was ever jealous of Briseis?"

"He was certainly frustrated by the effect she had on Achilles," Hephaestion said after a brief consideration. "She made him act selfishly and that is in part why Patroclus died.... But I do not think Patroclus regretted his death. Achilles was fated to die young and Patroclus knew it. As death overcame him I think that he may have been relieved to know that he and Achilles would not long be parted. He had died an honourable death and was worthy to stand beside his love for all of eternity."

Alexander pursed his lips and rose slowly from the bed. He crossed over to the couch that Hephaestion was sprawled upon and placed his hands on his love's knees. With only minimal effort he turned Hephaestion towards him, kneeling down between his spread thighs.

"If the gods attempt to keep us apart once our mortal lives have ended I will lay waste to the house of the dead until I find you once again," Alexander pledged, his eyes holding Hephaestion's brilliant blue ones. "I will not allow death to part us."

Hephaestion did not speak the words, but his response was entirely visible in his body. The tension that was almost a very part of Hephaestion bled away then, his body utterly relaxed as he drew Alexander from the ground and into his arms. Alexander went willingly, lying against Hephaestion's chest.

"Such things are still far off and there is no point in dwelling on them. We have proven our devotion to the gods so I do not fear their plans for us when we have passed," Hephaestion said against Alexander's hair.

Alexander kept silent as he sought to ease his thoughts. He understood the truth of Hephaestion's words, but could not wholly make himself believe them. It was inevitable that he and Hephaestion would both marry and that they would both sire children. What Alexander was uncertain of was what would come once they had lived their lives. Would there be anything remarkable about their lives or would they manage the short, spectacular lives of Achilles and Patroclus that would allow them to live on as heroes once they descended to the house of the dead? Alexander was torn as to which scenario he would rather face. Much as he wanted glory to rival that of Achilles, he did not want to risk being parted from Hephaestion in the process. They would both need to be recognized as heroes in order to avoid the waters of the Lethe and remain together in Elysium.

"You still worry far too much," Hephaestion chided, lips ghosting against Alexander's temples. "Such matters are far off. We do not even leave for Persia until after your sister's wedding."

It took some effort to quiet his mind, but Alexander relaxed against Hephaestion's chest. Across the room his mother's letter continued to torment him, her constant intrigues making him uncertain. Alexander wished desperately that he could purge her from his existence, but she was proving a truly virulent poison. Hephaestion's fingers dancing lightly over his stomach, however, was a most welcomed, if temporary, cure.

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Never in all her life could Cleopatra remember being fussed over so much. As one of the king's many daughters, her place had never been a truly important one. Not like Alexander. Now, though, all of the attention was on her. She was the one who was going to have a grand wedding in a few months. It was an important wedding, she knew, because of what their mother had done to Alexander's friend.

Cleopatra prayed fervently that she and her new husband would not be living near her mother. As a child she had found Olympias utterly fascinating and thought it great fun to have a witch for a mother. Even before Olympias had people take Hephaestion to the mine in Illyria, Cleopatra had no longer been quite so certain that having a witch for a mother was a good thing. Her mother could be very frightening and said absolutely horrible things about her father; and about Hephaestion before she had him taken away. Cleopatra had never been able to figure out why her mother had hated Hephaestion so much until after he and Alexander had come back from Illyria. She had been watching as they had all rode through the gate and had seen the way Alexander looked at Hephaestion. It was the way the older girls looked at the soldiers they fancied. Only more. Cleopatra wanted someone to look at her like that.

Wandering out to her balcony, Cleopatra could see across the private family garden to Alexander's rooms. Through the drawn curtains she could barely make out two shapes lying sprawled on the couch she knew was there. She could not tell if they were naked, but they were moving about in a way that Cleopatra knew meant they were coupling. There was laughter suddenly, deep and quiet, that drifted across the open air. Alexander and Hephaestion were happy.

"My lady, come indoors so that I may dress your hair, "Lanike called from inside.

Sighing longingly in the direction of her brother's rooms, Cleopatra wandered back indoors.

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Ptolemy could not suppress a grin as he entered his bedroom and found Thais waiting for him with naught but a smile. Her sexual prowess aside, Ptolemy took pleasure from the fact that she always appeared genuinely content to see him. It may not have necessarily been love, but there was certainly far more affection than his parents had ever demonstrated for each other. Ptolemy suspected, though, that his presence had a great deal to do with that. Born less than nine months after their wedding night it was impossible to silence speculation about his paternity. That Philip was his true sire was something that had long been rumoured and was largely looked upon as the truth. Ptolemy himself preferred not to think on it, happy with his lot and saw no need to shake things up.

"You have gotten lost inside that great brain of yours again," Thais sighed dramatically, her lilting voice snaking its way into his thoughts. "I had hoped to prevent that this night."

Unclasping his cloak, Ptolemy smiled fondly at her. "You are most certainly a welcome distraction from my thoughts."

"A woman is always glad to hear such things," she murmured, holding a hand out in his direction.

By the time he reached the bed, Ptolemy had shed all but his boots. When he would have leaned down to remove them, Thais grabbed hold of his upper arms, tumbling him onto the bed.

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Her entire body felt swollen, her skin uncomfortably tight. She had long ago forgotten her body's regular contours as her stomach expanded with the weight of her second child in as many years. Eurydike knew that she could not complain because Philip seemed to have genuine affection for her and their infant daughter. He would visit the nursery at least once a week, often with some trinket designed to bring a smile to the young girl's face. He had been in early that day with a rag doll that had made Europa coo and giggle while she waved it about in her chubby hands.

Eurydike was relieved that her uncle Attalus would not be present for the birth of her second child. She loved him dearly, but despised the power games he played with her and her children. Even before Europa had been born, her uncle had been trying to see to it that the child replaced Alexander as heir to the throne. He had made a drunken spectacle of himself at the wedding, likening Alexander to his mad mother and insisting that he was not fit for the throne.

"_At last, Macedon has a queen we can be proud of!" Attalus cried, raising his glass high in the air. "All that is lacking now is a true Macedonian prince!" _

_The entire hall fell silent and even from a distance Eurydike had been able to see Alexander's hackles rising. More frightening was the boy at his side, the Athenian. When her eyes landed on him, Eurydike feared for her uncle's life. Like most others in the palace she knew the tales of what had been done to him in Illyria, including the account of the page he had killed. So when his hand went to the knife belted at his waist, Eurydike knew with an almost certainty that were it not for Alexander's restraining hand on his arm Hephaestion Amyntoros would have killed her uncle that night. _

"_What am I then, you old fool, if not a Macedonian prince?" Alexander shouted at Attalus, his hand still on Hephaestion's wrist. _

"_The bastard son of a witch!" _

"_How can you hope to rule Macedon when you cannot even control your own mother?" _

_His right arm free, Hephaestion hurled a goblet at her uncle, striking him square in the face. For one endless second everyone was silent, eyes darting between the general and the cavalryman. All were wondering who Philip would choose to support, his wife's uncle or his son's lover. _

"_The both of you sit!" Philip roared, lurching to his feet. He wavered momentarily, but kept his feet. "Shame on the lot of you, harping on like a bunch of washerwomen when you are kin now. Attalus, that Mollossian bitch has naught to do with me or my son and I will not have you questioning his legitimacy. Alexander, quit being so damned sensitive and keep Hephaestion under control. I want no bloodshed tonight." _

_Philip had wobbled the whole time he spoke, but the sound of his voice never wavered. All was silent till at last Alexander sat, pulling Hephaestion down with him. Hephaestion immediately picked up a new goblet, smirking at a red-faced Attalus. _

_At the sight, Philip began to chortle, clapping Attalus on the shoulder as he sat back down. "You would be wise not to attack Alexander with his watch dog present. He will strike in the most unpleasant ways."_

Horrible as it was to even think, Eurydike had been quite amused to see her uncle hit in the face with the goblet. The expression on his face immediately afterwards had been utterly amusing, his cheeks reddening like tomatoes and his eyes bulging out.

It had been a relief when her first child was born a girl and hoped that her luck would hold when the next child was born. She did not want to give her uncle further reasons for intrigue nor did she want Alexander to have reason to kill Attalus when Philip died. Alexander had proven himself well and unless Philip lived until any son she bore reached his majority, a regent would be necessary. A second girl would keep things uncomplicated.

If the child she carried did turn out to be a son, Eurydike vowed to never treat it as Philip's former queen had treated her son. She stroked a hand over her stomach, unable to comprehend causing her child such pain. From the moment Europa had been born, she had wanted to do nothing but protect her young daughter. Olympias' madness had nearly destroyed Alexander and even now the raw edges of him could still sometimes be glimpsed.

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With utter meticulation, Philip went over the latest reports he had of Olympias' actions in Epirus. There were weekly dispatches from Dodona whose sole purpose was to record Olympias every act to ensure that she did not have power to cause mischief in either Epirus or in Macedon. Alexander was doing well without his mother's interference, the two of them getting on better than they had in years. Philip dreaded to think of what could have happened at his wedding had Olympias still been able to influence the boy. As it was, though he could not generally admit so, he had been impressed with Hephaestion's aim that night. Amyntor's son was even more frightening with a javelin.

About a month before he had received a long and rambling letter from Attalus, who was leading half of the advance army, touting the virtues of some Carian princess and insisted that she would be the perfect bride for Alexander. Even before he discovered that the princess was only eight years old, Philip had been wary. Subtle as he tried to be about it, all knew that Attalus was determined to see that Alexander was not heir. However, there was no worthwhile alternative and despite what Attalus wanted to believe, Philip had no intention of naming an infant as his successor when he had a full grown son with an excellent military record.

Proud as he was of Alexander, Philip would have preferred it if his son already had a successor of his own. An illegitimate son at least if not a son born in wedlock. Several of his companions already had at least one or two and provided barracks gossip proved accurate, two men had sired children on the same girl. Alexander had no such sons and had not even seemed to show much interest in the hetaeras that so fascinated his friends. . Were it not for his relationship with Hephaestion, Philip would have worried about the boy. In time Philip was certain that his son would seek release between the thighs of some girl. If Alexander was smart, though, he would only marry for political reasons and for heirs. Love only complicated the marriage bed.

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The evening meal was due to start soon, but Hephaestion could not bear to untangle himself from Alexander. Nor did his love appear to be in any hurry either. It seemed a small eternity since he and Alexander had been able to enjoy a lazy afternoon together and Hephaestion wanted to indulge as much as possible.

"Do you think the others will notice if we abstain from joining them in the hall tonight?" Alexander said into Hephaestion's hair.

"Notice and remark on it," Hephaestion chuckled, tilting his head back so that he could see Alexander's face. "And take great pleasure doing so I would wager."

Alexander's amused grunt was certainly acknowledgment enough. Craning his neck a bit, Alexander touched his lips to Hephaestion's. "Let them wait."


	2. Part II

**Part II**

Hephaestion knelt astride Ptolemy's chest, sword held tight to the older man's throat. Everyone around them was utterly silent, waiting to see what would come next. Then, with a wide grin, Hephaestion leaned over and pressed a sloppy kiss to Ptolemy's forehead before rising to his feet. Ptolemy laid in the dirt a moment longer, staring up at Hephaestion in shock.

"I was under the impression that you were better with a lance than a sword," Ptolemy grumbled, his smile taking any heat from the words.

"And I was under the impression that your weapon of choice was a sword," Hephaestion returned, holding a hand out to help Ptolemy to his feet. "It was a good attempt, though."

Ptolemy grunted as he allowed himself to be hauled up. "You have certainly improved, I will give you that. You could likely take on Cleitus if you chose."

Hephaestion said nothing, moving silently to stand alongside Alexander. The others were all still scattered about the gymnasium, lounging while they waited their turns. Alexander leaned into him, their arms brushing momentarily. Already Seleucus and Nearchus were slowly circling each other, swords drawn. This training as a unit had only become more structured as of late, their deployment into Persia finally becoming a real thing. Alexander's Companions were soon to become his Bodyguards so they needed to be able to protect him. It was a role that Hephaestion took with the utmost seriousness. He would not be the reason Alexander was killed. All of the talk that went with his determined battle prowess did not matter in the least to Hephaestion so long as it kept Alexander alive.

Though nothing was ever said directly to him, Hephaestion knew that there were a great many in Pella who thought him to be at least half mad. Hephaestion found such things more amusing than anything else. It was mostly those who were envious of his position in Alexander's inner circle that said such things, jealousy prompting their words. Hephaestion had no care what was said about him, a fact which annoyed all of his detractors. Hephaestion simply did not see the point in rising to their bait. Most of what was said was only the teller's own fabrication and never of any real import. Very little had been said directly to him since he had broken Cassander's nose the year before after the fool had insinuated that Alexander took pleasure seeing Hephaestion passed about between various men, watching in enjoyment as Hephaestion struggled. Cassander's words and the malicious glint in his eye as he had spoken had enraged Hephaestion and he had struck before he fully realized what he had done. Of course, that was not to say he regretted his actions. Far from it. Hephaestion did not like to hear anyone speak ill of Alexander.

"You seem determined to be named to the head of my Bodyguard," Alexander said to him once Seleucus and Nearchus began to fight in earnest. Neither of them took their eyes of the fight, but leaned in closer to each other.

"Name another who would guard your life so well."

"And while you are guarding my life who would safeguard your own?"

A soft smile immediately appeared on Hephaestion's face. "You know the answer to that just as surely as I do."

Though he could not see all of Alexander's face, Hephaestion had no difficulty envisioning his scowl. Alexander hated to be reminded that, as a result of his birth, his life was placed at a higher value than those he cared for. He was always the first one to throw himself into the thick of things, wanting to lead by example rather than by words alone. The only downfall was that the rest of them were left chasing after him into whatever madness resulted.

"My birth should not prevent me from sacrificing myself just as readily as the rest of you," Alexander grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his brow. "My life should not count for more than yours or any one else's."

Hephaestion sighed, leaning back against the wall. "Except that it does. One day you will be king. However, to gain the throne, you must live long enough to succeed your father."

Alexander continued to scowl, no doubt building up more arguments to continue his complaints. Hephaestion kept quiet, not wanting to rehash an argument that had happened many times over. No matter what Alexander said, Hephaestion would never agree with his claim that their lives were worth the same. Even if Alexander was not a prince, there was still something about him that set him above everyone else. It was something Hephaestion had known since they had first met.

_He clung tight to his father's hand, his eyes darting about as he took in his new surroundings. His father said that this would be his new home. It had taken them so very long to get here and he was not sure that he wanted to stay. Not when his mother was so far away. _

_There was a flash of gold from somewhere to the left and when he turned his head he saw a little boy playing with a dog that was almost as big as he was. He tried to stop to get a better look at the boy, but his father tugged him along, insisting that they had to go see the king. _

_For a brief moment, the golden boy looked up and smiled at him. Hephaestion smiled back then lost track of the boy as he passed behind a pillar._

"It is because of who you are, not who you were born, that makes us want to protect you," Hephaestion sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

"Then why can I not do the same for you? Why can I not hold my life above yours?"

Hephaestion ducked his head down, turning away from Alexander. "Because I am not worth it."

Without another word, Hephaestion walked away. It did not matter what Alexander's arguments were, they would not change that simple truth.

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Watching them, Ptolemy could not help but wonder where one ended and the other began. Though they were of two beings their conscious seemed to be a single thing. He had long since stopped trying to separate the actions of one over the other because in the end they were the same. What Alexander believed so did Hephaestion, as it was in reverse. Even when they were boys, Ptolemy could not remember a time when it had been otherwise.

"How is your pride?" Peucestas chuckled as he leaned next to Ptolemy against the wall.

"In better condition than my rear."

Peucestas bobbed his head up and down. "The boy certainly packs a whollop."

"He is a year younger than you. That hardly makes him a boy," Ptolemy snorted, whipping at a trail of sweat dripping down from his temple. "But he has gotten a great deal better lately. He is determined."

Out of the corner of his eye, Ptolemy sighted Alexander and Hephaestion quietly slipping into a dark corner of the gymnasium. Their heads were bent close together, the conversation obviously a heated one. Ptolemy would most certainly not call it an argument because those tended to be far more spectacular. It was most likely Hephaestion telling Alexander something he had no desire to hear, but that was equally unavoidable. Over the years they had all found it easier to have Hephaestion be the one to reveal unwelcome news to Alexander. Hephaestion may not always be able to keep Alexander calm, but he could keep the prince from having too volatile a reaction.

The same could not always be said of Hephaestion. Calm and reserved as Hephaestion was still prone to being, there were times that his fearsome temper came to the fore. What made that temper more dangerous was the fact that it was impossible to tell when his ire would be rankled. For the life of him, Ptolemy could not remember what had set the younger man off while they were sparring.

"Off they go," Peucestas mused, nudging Ptolemy with his elbow.

It was Hephaestion who was storming off, Alexander trailing hurriedly behind him. Whatever the two had been discussing had put Hephaestion in a foul mood. Ptolemy watched them until they were out of sight, knowing that it would not take long for Alexander to smooth Hephaestion's ruffled feathers.

"So what do you think are the chances they'll be at the evening meal?" Perdiccas grinned as he wandered over to join them.

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"Hephaestion!" Alexander shouted, sprinting to catch up to his lover. Stretching his arm out, he latched onto Hephaestion's wrist, stopping his progress. "Hephaestion, wait."

Hephaestion stopped, but did not turn around. "Your father will be waiting for you."

Keeping firm hold of Hephaestion's wrist, Alexander moved around so they stood face to face. "Hephaestion, what is going on?"

"There is nothing going on," Hephaestion insisted, his voice steady and devoid of any emotion.

"You cannot expect me to believe that," Alexander said, shaking his head briefly. "You have been out of sorts all day. Please tell me what is troubling you."

"Go see your father, Alexander," Hephaestion said quietly, his lips twitching in a brief, if somewhat strained, smile. "We will talk later, I promise."

"Hephaestion...."

Already Hephaestion was walking away, heading towards the stables. Alexander watched him go, still not sure what could have upset the other man so much. Hephaestion's moods could be entirely unpredictable, but it was only rarely directed at Alexander himself. In the past Hephaestion had always confided in him, allowing Alexander to ease his burdens. Alexander feared what that meant.

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The instant Alexander entered the room Philip knew there was something troubling him. It was impossible to ignore the stormclouds hovering around him. For the moment, though, there was nothing he could do about it. There were other things they needed to deal with before Alexander's own dilemmas could be taken into account.

"I assume that you have read her latest letter," Philip grumbled, pouring wine for both of them.

Alexander made a fist in his hair as he slumped down on the window ledge that overlooked the courtyard. He scrubbed his hand over his face, nodding. "Last night. I was half tempted to throw it in the fire. I should have thrown it in the fire. I want _nothing_ to do with her."

Philip handed his son silver cup filled to the brim with wine. He was half tempted to hand the boy the jug itself, but he was melancholy enough without it. "Nor will you have anything to do with her outside of her damnable letters. After this last one I have men watching Hephaestion just in case. I am not fool enough to think that I can neutralize her entirely, but she is far enough away from us that the effects won't be as severe."

"I want to believe that she would not try for Hephaestion again," Alexander said quietly, the words spoken mostly into his drink. "He has suffered enough for this already."

"I would like to believe such things just as much as you, but we both know that she is too unpredictable," Philip told his son, wishing that there was better news to give.

Pursing his lips, Alexander nodded his head slowly. He scratched at his left eyebrow, his other hand holding tight to the wine. "I would not.... I would not hold it against you if you decided to... if you wanted to.... If you need to, kill her."

It was the first time either of them had ever spoken about Olympias' fate since she had been escorted to Epirus by Amyntor the year before. It was a subject that both had simply avoided. Yet it was a conversation that could not be pushed aside this time. Though not spoken of, keeping her confined indefinitely was not something that could be guaranteed. Removing her would be the only safe route.

"If I can avoid it, I will not kill her," Philip said at last. "It is madness that has driven her to commit these horrible acts; the magic twisting her mind. Unless she provokes me to it, I will leave her be."

"Then you have more compassion for her than I," Alexander mumbled before swallowing a large mouthful of wine.

Philip released a deep, rumbling sigh, scrubbing at his grizzled beard. "You forget that I loved her once. It was another life, but I loved her like I've loved no other of my wives or mistresses. She is no longer the woman that I knew as a boy, but even so it would grieve me to have her killed."

Try as he might, Philip could find no reason for his sudden somber thoughts. For years he had refused to even think about Olympias as anything except a nuisance that was trying to poison his son against him. Even before Cleopatra had been conceived their romance had begun to turn foul. Philip had always suspected that it had been the whispered complications of Alexander's birth that had turned her mind. He did not know the details of what had taken place, but had heard the midwives talking while Olympias was delivering Cleopatra. Their conversation had been spoken in hushed tones so Philip had only heard a few words of it, but it had been enough. Alexander's birth had nearly killed mother and son. Such things were not uncommon so Philip had thought no more of it, relieved instead to know that his young son was thriving, if a bit small.

"If she tries to harm Hephaestion again, I will be the one to kill her," Alexander said, his voice determined and steady.

Philip chose not to argue because he could already see that his words would have no effect. Alexander's moods were as unpredictable as they were lasting. He had never known anyone to dig their heels in with the same ferocity as his youngest son. Philip could only hope that it would not lead the boy to folly.

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Given his earlier mood, Alexander was rather surprised to find Hephaestion waiting for him in his rooms. He was relieved, though, by the soft smile Hephaestion offered as Alexander slowly made his way towards him. Not wanting to spoil Hephaestion's tranquil mood, Alexander said nothing about what had transpired earlier as he crossed the room to Hephaestion.

"Even though I know I should not have, I read your mother's letter this morning," Hephaestion admitted, his voice little more than a whisper. "I had not meant to, but at the same time I could not stop myself."

All at once, Alexander knew the cause for Hephaestion's strange behaviour. Crossing immediately to the couch, Alexander sat down next to Hephaestion, close enough that their thighs were touching. He had found, mostly through trial and error, that Hephaestion was better able to get his thoughts out if they were in close contact.

"You do not need to apologize for reading the letter," Alexander was quick to assure him. "I had meant to show it to you after I spoke with my father and even if the letter had not been about you I would still have let you read it. I would trust you with the contents of a correspondence long before I would trust a scribe. Zeus' cock, were it not for the fact that it is an utterly dull and tedious job—and that my penmanship is better than yours—I would have you as my scribe."

"That chicken scratch of yours can hardly be called legible penmanship," Hephaestion snorted, nudging Alexander's knee with his own.

Alexander laughed as well, relieved to see Hephaestion relaxing more than anything. Both of them remained silent for a time, leaning into each other. There were obvious things that needed to be spoken of, but for the moment Alexander was content to just sit. Later they would talk about his mother's offer to procure the mercenaries who had taken Hephaestion from Pella.

_.... So long as they believe that it is their services I wish to employ once again, I will have no difficulty luring them to Dodona. What occurs then is entirely up to you, my Achilles. I can have them sent to Pella in chains, prisoners to be dealt with as you see fit. Or I can unleash them once again on your so-called love. There are prisons far more vile than that mine of Philip's; places where not even you could find him. Renounce him and marry the girl of my choosing you may vent your frustrations on the mercenaries as a wedding gift. Allow him to remain by your side and he will be removed. I only want what is best for you, my love. In time you will see the wisdom of all I have tried to do for you._

"You will not be taken from Pella against your will a second time," Alexander insisted, the words spoken just as much for himself as they were for Hephaestion. "She can threaten whatever she wants, but I will not renounce you and I will not allow her to have you stolen away."

"There are moments when I think that the best course of action would be for me to leave," Hephaestion said quietly. "To go ahead with the advance forces at the end of the month. You would not have your mother's intrigues to worry about and we would eventually be reunited once you arrive with the main army."

Before Hephaestion had even finished speaking, Alexander was shaking his head. "No. It is unfortunate enough that Ptolemy, Nearchus, Erigyius, and Laomedon are a part of that force, but I will not be separated from you. Patroclus did not sail to Troy ahead of Achilles."

"Better to sail ahead across the Aegean than across the Styx."


	3. Part III

**Part III**

Despite what Ptolemy and the others may have wanted to believe, he and Alexander did not spend every waking moment together. Aside from training and sleeping they rarely had any time alone. As it was, now that training had begun in earnest, Hephaestion could not even fathom making the trip from the barracks up to the palace where Alexander slept. He would no more remove his chiton than collapse face-first onto his bunk. It is nowhere near as comfortable as Alexander's large bed, but his body was simply content to be still at last.

For the most part, Hephaestion was too exhausted to even dream. His slumber was blessedly empty of the worries that haunted his waking hours. Before Olympias' letter had arrived, Hephaestion rarely allowed himself to think about what had happened to him in Illyria. There was no point on dwelling what could not be changed. And while it still only occasionally slipped into his thoughts while he was awake, when he did not exhaust his body during the day, it haunted his nights. That was another factor that kept him from Alexander's bed most nights. If he could not work himself into a dreamless sleep, Hephaestion would remain behind in his barrack's room, not wanting to disturb his love with his troubled dreams. Perdiccas and Seleucus slept like the dead, neither of them even stirring when Hephaestion woke with a strangled cry. Alexander, however, was a light sleeper, even when tired. Hephaestion would never be able to hide his troubled dreams from his love.

"I hurt in places I did not even know existed," Seleucus moaned, flopping down onto his bed. "Places that no man should ever hurt."

"Unless, of course, the man enjoys hurting back there," Perdiccas snorted as he unclipped his chiton, allowing it to slip down to the floor.

From where he already lay sprawled out on his own cot, Hephaestion chuckled quietly. "If you had any experience beyond what you find in a woman's heated swamp you would know that this is not the same kind of pain."

Perdiccas furrowed his brows. "Is it not?"

"No pleasure involved in receiving the pain," Hephaestion informed them, speaking with the utmost seriousness and a bit of s smirk. "Just too much time on a stinking horse."

Seleucus had managed to flip himself onto his back by then and was fiddling with the pins fastening his chiton at his shoulders. "That sounds perfect for Perdiccas. He loves a smelly ass." When he finally got them out he merely dropped them to the floor before wiggling out of fabric. And cried out when a muddy boot hit him in the chest.

Hephaestion missed most of the ensuing argument. Having heard countless versions of the same argument he merely tuned them out. So long as a brawl did not result from it they would be on friendly terms once again before the lights were even extinguished. When he was not so exhausted it was amusing to listen to the pair trade insults back and forth. Years of practice had made them quite creative and if either of them had the discipline for it they would have made fantastic comedic writers.

"If the two of you do not shut your mouths I will personally sew your lips shut," Hephaestion grumbled, opening one eye to glare at them when their ranting continued on too long.

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Olympias comforted herself with the knowledge that the boy who had caused her so much trouble would be dead soon enough. She had learned her lesson after Illyria and knew that she could not leave things up to chance. The last time she had left too much up to the fates and as a result her son's wretched whore had survived. This time the Illyrians were not to let the boy live. He would be killed right under her darling Achilles' very nose so that he would know to never again cross her.

_Threatening Hephaestion will gain you nothing except my eternal hatred. You have wronged him and me already once before and I swear to you that if you harm him a second time you will regret it. So keep your whore where she is for I will not marry her, nor even bed her. For if she comes from you she has already been tainted and polluted._

Her sweet boy would never have uttered something so foul and hateful to her in the past. There had been a time when Alexander would have never questioned her counsel. Philip and the whore had poisoned her dear golden one against her. To get that back she would need to remove them both to ensure that Alexander would once again listen to her and do what was right for their line. The line of Achilles.

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It was a crash and a grunt that woke him. He was not entirely sure what order the sounds occurred in, more concerned with grabbing hold of his knife. His sword would have been better, but that was too far away to be gotten quickly. Especially when the lights were doused for the night. The sound of the grunt, though, was unmistakable as it was the same one he had heard just before he had been launched heels over head into the dust just that afternoon.

Before he could even get untangled from the bedclothes it was all over. There was still a great deal of panting and grunting, but the sounds of a brawl were gone. While he stumbled towards the door to call for aid, Perdiccas managed to get one of the lamps lit, illuminating what had woken them.

"Hera's leaking tits, man! Hephaestion!"

The man in question was lying sprawled on his back, trapped under a still-twitching body. There was blood smeared over Hephaestion's face and pooling beneath him. From his vantage point near the door, Seleucus could not quite tell whose blood was staining the floor.

"Alert the guard, there has been an attack!" Seleucus shouted when he got the door open. "And get Alexander!"

It was only as he was turning away from the door that Seleucus noticed the second body lying tumbled half off of Hephaestion's bed, his eyes wide and unseeing and his chest stained red with blood. In the dead man's hand was a knife smeared with blood, most likely Hephaestion's.

"Can you sit up?" he heard Perdiccas ask, Hephaestion's reply little more than a grunt of acknowledgement. It was an annoyed grunt that Hephaestion had become quite proficient at over the past year.

While Perdiccas dealt with getting Hephaestion off the floor, Seleucus gathered up a jug of water, a shallow bowl, and a flask of wine. Even if Hephaestion did not want a drink, Seleucus most definitely needed one as assassins were not meant to enter the room of mere cavalrymen. He preferred not to think on the fact that Hephaestion had managed to kill both of them before the lights had even been ignited. It made Hephaestion even more unpredictable and frightening than he already was.

"Move," Hephaestion growled, the first words Seleucus had heard him utter since it had all began. Scrambling past Perdiccas and over to the man lying dead on the floor, Hephaestion snatched something from around his neck, holding it closed tight in his fist. He glanced at it a few times, his grip tightening to white knuckle each time he closed his fingers about it.

"Hephae—"

Whatever Perdiccas had been about to say was cut off when he put a hand on Hephaestion's shoulders. Obviously still spooked, Hephaestion had reacted as though still under attack and flipped Perdiccas over onto his back, knife tip against his throat.

That was the sight Ptolemy, Nearchus and the rest stumbled in upon.

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It took a moment for him to register just what it was that he was seeing. Ptolemy shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and wrap his thoughts around just what could have possibly occurred in that room. Whatever it was, their presence seemed to have snapped Hephaestion out of whatever trance he was in and he rolled off Perdiccas, dropping his knife to the ground.

"What, in the name of all the gods, happened in here?" Cleitus demanded, shoving his way through. "It looks like a slaughterhouse. Who are those men?"

None of them had any answers to give and, if Hephaestion knew, he stayed silent. When Cleitus knelt down before him, to ask again, Hephaestion jerked away, hand going back towards his knife.

"Easy, lad, just me," Cleitus said in a hushed voice.

Hephaestion's eyes were wide as he stared at Cleitus, but there was some recognition in his gaze. Just enough to keep him from attacking the black-eyed soldier. Even from where he stood, though, Ptolemy could see that his was practically vibrating with whatever emotion consumed him.

"Hephaestion!"

At the sound of Alexander's shout, Hephaestion seemed to come out of whatever daze consumed him. By the time Alexander was kneeling in front of him, Hephaestion was reaching towards the blonde man. He did not embrace as Alexander as Ptolemy would have expected, but instead held the prince's face between his palms, staring at him intently. From where he stood Ptolemy could make out a cord dangling from Hephaestion's right hand, the object trapped between palm and cheek.

"Hephaestion, what happened?" Alexander demanded, staring intently at the trembling man sitting in front of him.

Hephaestion's answer was to pull his right hand from where it cradled Alexander's cheek, revealing what it was he held. Try as he might, Ptolemy could not make out what was on the medallion that rested in the center of Hephaestion's palm, but whatever it was made Alexander's face pale. Immediately, he grabbed Hephaestion to him, holding him tight. It was an embrace that Hephaestion did not return, shuddering where he sat , head bowed against Alexander's shoulder.

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Though he had been expecting such a thing, Alexander still found himself unable to comprehend what Hephaestion was showing him. That he was looking at a wooden medallion that he had never thought to see again.

"Get these bodies out of here," Alexander ordered as he carefully lifted Hephaestion's head from where it rested against his shoulder. He had seen all of the blood on his love's face and prayed that it was not his. That it belonged entirely to the monsters that did his mother's bidding. "Seleucus, wet that cloth and hand it here."

Cleitus crouched down alongside them, close, but not close enough to upset Hephaestion. "What happened here?"

"My mother's mercenaries," Alexander managed to get out at last. He took the damp cloth from Seleucus, lightly cupping Hephaestion's jaw. "The ones who took Hephaestion last year."

There was a great deal of conversation going on around them then, but Alexander ignored them, focusing instead on cleaning the blood from Hephaestion's face. Even before his love flinched away from the lightest of touches, Alexander noticed the swelling on the right side of his face and knew that the blood hid an injury. It was not until he was able to clear some of the blood away, though, that he saw the size of the gash not even two fingers' breadth below Hephaestion's eye and sent Perdiccas to get the physician.

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It was several hours later before Hephaestion was allowed the chance to rest again. The details of what had occurred were still fuzzy, even to him. Hephaestion had no idea what had woken him, except that there had been a vague sound of shuffling before pain sliced across his face. He had been scrambling under his pillow for his own knife when the blade had come down a second time and rolled off the bed, knocking his assailant to the ground. What occurred afterwards he was not entire certain of as it had happened too quickly for him to fully take stock of things.

"It is a wonder he missed your eye," Alexander murmured, lightly stroking the skin near Hephaestion's temple.

Though he had not seen himself in a mirror yet, the skin around the injury felt tight and swollen, and he could not open his right eye fully. He could already envision the swelling turning into a dark bruise while he slept. It was the worst of his injuries, requiring a handful of stitches to keep it closed. The other cuts he had received were glancing in comparison and had already begun to scab over.

"I do not think he was aiming for my eye," Hephaestion yawned, snuggling deeper into the warm quits that covered Alexander's bed. "I heard something just before he struck and ducked down. More likely he was aiming for my heart or my throat."

He felt Alexander shudder at that and drew his love down to lie next to him. In his fist he still held tight to his medallion, still in awe over the fact that it was once again in his possession. Alexander's was still around his neck as it had been for more than a year despite his many attempts to try and return it to him. Raising himself up on one elbow, Hephaestion uncurled his fingers from about the wooden image of Achilles and Patroclus. He reached under the pillow for the knife he knew Alexander kept hidden there and, with a bit of maneuvering, managed to cut loose a small curl of hair. As Alexander had done on that night long ago, Hephaestion slipped the lock of hair into the medallion's small compartment before holding it out to Alexander.

"I did not think to ever see this again," Hephaestion whispered, the corner of his lips twitching slightly. "I had thought it lost forever."

Lifting himself up on one elbow as well, Alexander lightly grazed his fingertips along Hephaestion's forearm. He did not say anything, only ducked his head forward a bit when Hephaestion moved to place the cord over his head. Hephaestion squeezed his eyes shut as he settled the wooden medallion against Alexander's chest, sucking his lips inwards to try and swell the sudden infusion of emotions. When he glanced up at Alexander from under his lashes, he saw that his beloved's eyes were wet as well.

"I told my father that he should have her killed," Alexander said at last, closing his fingers over Hephaestion's where they still rested against his chest. "She is too dangerous and unpredictable. When she learns that his plan of her has failed there is no telling what she will do next. It is safer for all concerned to have her killed."

Leaving his hand where it was, Hephaestion lowered upper body back down against the pillows. "I never wanted it to come to this."

"This is not your doing," Alexander insisted, turning over onto his stomach, but keeping himself raised up on his elbows. "She was mad and possessive long before we ever crossed paths. She wants to keep me under her thumb and believes that she can do so by choosing my mate for me. As though she could choose better for me than the gods already have."

Despite himself, Hephaestion could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Alexander leaned down, their foreheads touching. Tilting his head a bit, he was able to brush the tip of his nose against Alexander's. With a bit of wiggling and shifting, they ended up lying with their sides pressed together; Hephaestion's arm looped around Alexander's shoulders from underneath, fingers curled up to caress the longer strands of golden hair and Alexander's left leg was draped over Hephaestion's thigh, resting between his legs. Alexander's body felt as though it was heated from within, a living furnace, the contact between their bare skin warming Hephaestion for the first time since he had heard the creeping footsteps in the dark.

"No one will dare cross you after this," Alexander yawned as he lowered his head next to Hephaestion's on the pillow. "Those who were not already frightened of you before this will be so now."

"If anything it will only further the rumour that I am half mad," Hephaestion mused, turning his head towards Alexander's, lips brushing against his love's forehead.

"Or some divine hero."

Hephaestion snorted at that, his features twisting briefly. It was a great deal less painful when he kept his features lax. "I hardly possess the qualities of a divine hero."

"That is a matter of debate. One that we can continue on the morrow for I can barely keep my eyes open any longer." This time Alexander's yawn was loud enough for his jaw to look as though it was about to come unhinged.

Hephaestion grunted an affirmative and immediately shifted about with the pretense of falling asleep while Alexander snuffed the lamp. He closed his eyes and slowly allowed his breathing to even out. He also forced his body to go lax, knowing that all of his play-acting would be for naught if Alexander felt him tense. Exhausted and desperate as he was to sleep, Hephaestion feared it just as much. He feared what dreams his slumber would bring; what carefully banished memories would claw their way back to the surface.

When he was certain that Alexander had fallen asleep, Hephaestion tried to slip out of the bed, not wanting to disturb his slumber. Each time that he tried, though, Alexander held him firmly in place. Alexander held him still, shifting and twisting about him more securely whenever it seemed that Hephaestion would slip from his grasp.

"I will not let you go," Alexander whispered after Hephaestion huffed a sigh of frustration. "Do not try to hide whatever demons you think you have to face alone. Sleep now and whatever dreams come we will face them together. I would be a poor friend to abandon you otherwise."

Even as he felt the heat of Alexander's gaze on him, Hephaestion kept his eyes resolutely closed. The only response he gave to Alexander that he had heard him was to squeeze his fingers about the base of the other man's skull, massaging his fingertips into his scalp.

Alexander's lips against the underside of his jaw was the last thing he remembered.


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

Alexander remained awake long into the night. He did not think that he could sleep even if he had wanted to, his mind replaying the scene he had rushed in on in the barracks. Alexander had never known the identity of the mercenaries who had abducted Hephaestion the year before and would not have known them now had Hephaestion not presented him with the medallion he had taken back from one of them. Further confirmation of their identities had been found on their person; letters from mother assuring them passage out of Macedon when their task had been completed. After seeing the letter, written in his mother's hand, Alexander had no doubt that she had meant to have Hephaestion killed that time.

To have Hephaestion sleeping peacefully in his arms after the events of that night was a relief to Alexander. The night could have gone so much worse, something Alexander was fully aware of. It would have been so easy for the two Illyrian mercenaries to kill Hephaestion, arriving as they did in the dead of night. Even now, several hours after the fact, Alexander could not wholly banish the fear that had consumed him when he had been woken with news of what had happened in the barracks. Alexander did not even know how he had managed to dress him and get to Hephaestion's room. What he would not forget was seeing Hephaestion sitting huddled on the ground, covered in blood.

"I do not know what I am going to do," Alexander murmured against Hephaestion's forehead. "I want her to die for everything she has done to you, but it is not up to me. It is my father who will ultimately decide what becomes of her."

Even though he knew that it was better for someone other than him to decide his mother's fate, Alexander would have been lying if he said he was preferred to sit idly by and allow others to make those decisions. She had tried to kill Hephaestion because it suited her desires with no care for what he thought about it. She had not cared that killing Hephaestion would have been killing him. Alexander had long ago stopped trying to determine where he and Hephaestion became separate individuals.

Alexander's hand hovered a hairsbreadth from Hephaestion's face. From his cheekbone to above his eye, the skin was bruised and swollen, spreading out from the deep cut below his right eye and the small one above it. Seeing Hephaestion then, Alexander could not help but let his mind drift back to more than a year before when Hephaestion's face and features had been disfigured by bruises. None of those from Illyria had looked so raw and painful.

In his sleep, Hephaestion shifted closer, his lips and nose brushing up against Alexander's shoulder. His nose wriggled and he puffed out a few deep breaths before lying still once again. Releasing a breath that he had not been aware of holding, Alexander let his hand rest against Hephaestion's hair, his fingers curling into the shoulder length locks.

Unable to contain a yawn of his own, Alexander closed his eyes and hoped for sleep to claim him.

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Scrubbing a hand over his face, Philip leaned back heavily in the chair at his desk. In his other hand was a cup half filled with wine, the rest of it already consumed. He had every intention of drinking much more before the night was finished. Armed mercenaries had entered his city, penetrated the army barracks and nearly killed one of his cavalrymen. They had unerringly found their way into Hephaestion's room and would have killed him if not for the boy's quick action.

"She still has spies in the city," Cleitus said quietly as he refilled his own cup. "They would not have found Hephaestion so easily otherwise. The lot of them were moved into new rooms barely a month ago."

"I never doubted that she had her spies. Only I did not think her foolish enough to go after him again," Philip sighed. "Alexander will never forgive her for this. If she were not in Dodona, I fear she would already be dead."

"She is hardly an innocent in all this," Cleitus reminded him. "She is fully aware of everything that she does and if she is allowed to continue she could very well end up destroying Alexander."

Much as hew as loathe to admit it, Philip knew that there was absolute truth in what Cleitus was saying. From the time Alexander had been born, Olympias had been obsessed with the boy and molding him into the image she wanted. She had so very nearly succeeded. Had she not been naïve enough to think that she could separate Alexander and Hephaestion, the state of their house could be in dire straights.

"If you were in my place, what would you do?" Philip asked, staring into his wine cup. "Would you let her live or have her killed?"

Pursing his lips, Cleitus furrowed his brows. "That is not a question I can answer. It is your wife and your son and while I may sympathize with the situation, I cannot fully appreciate the scope of it."

Much as he had hoped otherwise, Philip had not been expecting a different answer.

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The pain in his face was little more than a dull throb until a yawn forced him to crack his jaw open. Before he could clamp his mouth shut, a quiet gasp escaped his lips as tight, painful skin was stretched past its bearing. Lying utterly still while he waited for the stinging pain to subside, Hephaestion cracked his eyes open to glance about the dimly lit room. The sun was likely fully raised, but heavy drapes had been pulled over the windows, muting it. He could see very little, though, Alexander's shoulder blocking his view almost entirely.

Throughout the night, Alexander's hold on him had become almost entirely lax. With a bit of careful maneuvering and a few whispered endearments, Hephaestion was able to extract himself from the bed without waking Alexander. It amazed him that he had not woken screaming during the night, his very thoughts haunted by things he would much rather forget. They were, however, the very same things that Hephaestion was certain he would never be able to purge from his mind.

Drawing the coverlet that had been kicked down to the end of the bed, Hephaestion draped it about his shoulders to ward off the chill that lingered in the air. He tried to make as little sound as possible as he shuffled towards the balcony. There were slivers of sunlight peeking under the bottom edge of the heavy curtain that covered it and Hephaestion longed to allow the sun's heat soak into his skin.

Hephaestion squinted against the sudden influx of light seeping past his lashes, clenching his jaw to keep another yawn from straining the cuts on his face. The sun was about a quarter way to its zenith, the marble blocks under his bare feet only beginning to soak up its heat. The couch stood in the sun, the dark material no doubt soaking up the sun's rays, so Hephaestion laid down on it, curling up on his side. Much as he would have preferred to stay with Alexander, now that he had woken, Hephaestion did not fully trust himself or his dreams. It was exhaustion that had likely kept them at bay during the night, but now that he had slept off the most of it, he could not trust his memories.

"_Get off of me! Get off of me!" Hephaestion screamed, shoving at the body that was pressing against him. He scrabbled for the sharpened knife that he kept under his thin pillow, whimpering when his fingers failed to grasp it. "Noooo...." _

_Hands came up to hold his face, trying to keep him still. He grasped hold of the wrists, opened his eyes just enough to see the hazy figure above him, and slammed his head forward. There was a brief flash of pain, but the cry of outrage was welcome enough because it gave him a chance to slither away. _

"_Hephaestion, hold!" _

_Hephaestion stumbled as he struggled to gain his footing, the voice registering in his frazzled mind. Reaching towards the sound of the voice, Hephaestion shook his head briefly to clear the fog of sleep from his mind. _

"_Xan...." Hephaestion moaned, reaching desperately for Alexander's hand. He recoiled instantly when he saw the blood dribbled from his love's nose, damage that he himself had caused. "Gods, Alexander.... I did not.... I swear I did not—" _

_The words were silenced when Alexander pressed his fingers to Hephaestion's lips. Hephaestion tried to struggle away, to continue pleading his innocence, but Alexander held his head still with his other hand. _

"_It was a dream, love," Alexander whispered, once again enfolding Hephaestion's face within his palms. "I acted too rashly when I woke you. I should have made sure you were fully aware before I touched you." _

_Hephaestion squeezed his eyes shut tight, shaking his head. He struggled briefly when Alexander sought to draw him back up onto the bed, but in the end did not have it in him to fight his beloved. He watched on placidly as Alexander wet a cloth to wipe away the blood from his mouth and chin, gingerly stuffing two bits of fabric in his nostrils to sop up any other blood. _

"_Lysimachus told me once that dark memories must be purged from the soul in order for it to be healed," Alexander murmured as he crawled back into the bed alongside Hephaestion. "And that dreams are often the most expedient way to do so. After all that you have endured, it can only be expected that your dreams will be dark for a time." _

_Releasing a deep breath, Hephaestion leaned into Alexander's hand which had reached up to cup his cheek. "Even so, my foul dreams should not injure you. They are mine to endure."_

It was only tiredness on both their parts that had halted the argument that night just as it had the previous night. Hephaestion knew that there were things he would eventually have to talk to Alexander about, but he wanted to put that off for as long as he could manage. As much as he loved and trusted Alexander, there were things that he did not think he could ever speak of.

Curling himself up on the couch, Hephaestion shifted about to get as comfortable as he could manage. He was already half asleep, the sun warming him significantly even though the morning was still quite cool. So long as he could sleep there for a while he would be energized enough to get through another day of training.

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Waking alone had Alexander momentarily out of sorts. Even though he should have expected as much from Hephaestion, he had hoped that his love would have been exhausted enough by the night's events to sleep deeply and through the morning. Lying still a moment to try and gather his bearings, Alexander silently cursed Hephaestion for not letting him help. Alexander did not doubt for one moment that Hephaestion was strong enough to bear a great deal, but what Hephaestion constantly forgot was that he did not have to bear it alone.

Knowing his love as he did, though, Alexander was certain that he had not gone far. He never did. As uneasy as Hephaestion felt being around others when he was troubled, he still liked to be somewhere familiar. It was no surprise then that he found Hephaestion asleep on the balcony. For the moment his sleep looked peaceful, but the way the coverlet was twisted about his legs gave hint that it had not been so the whole time.

Keeping his own sheet draped over his shoulders, Alexander crawled onto the wide chaise. Very carefully, he shifted over so that he was lying curled against Hephaestion's back.

"How late 'zit?" Hephaestion mumbled, snuggling back against him.

Alexander pressed a kiss against the back of his neck. "Not late enough that our presence is required elsewhere."

"What about training? We should be there with the rest," Hephaestion protested, struggling briefly against him when Alexander attempted to hold him still. "They have likely been at it for quite a while already."

"It matters not. I doubt you can even open both eyes entirely," Alexander murmured, holding tight to Hephaestion to halt his struggles.

"Antigonus has only one eye."

"Antigonus was not attacked by mercenaries while he slept," Alexander reminded him. "And I can assure you that my father did not allow him out on the battlefield the day after he lost his eye. Nor will he want you on the field today after what happened last night."

Hephaestion continued to struggle against him, but the coverlet tangled about his legs hindered him. "I do not want to be coddled."

"You are not being coddled," Alexander insisted, sitting up to help Hephaestion free his legs. "There are other things that need to be dealt with today."

Hephaestion sat up and leaned back against the arm of the chaise. His carded his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. "There is nothing to be dealt with. They are dead and I am alive. Nor do I have anything to do with security so I can be of no help there. Please, Alexander, let us just forget it."

Alexander raised his hand to link his fingers with Hephaestion's where they still rested at the back of his head. He could think of nothing to say that would do anything to remove the desolate look in Hephaestion's eyes. Much as he wished he could simply wipe it away, it was impossible for him to tell just what exactly was going on in his mind.

"I will not simply forget that she tried to kill you a second time," Alexander said, his hand sliding down to cup the side of Hephaestion's throat. "Gods, Phae, why can you not see how important you are to me? Or to what we have planned? That your life is worth more than your ability to throw a lance or disarm a soldier. Aristotle wanted to continue teaching you once our time at Mieza was finished, that should tell you something of your intellect. You should have greater respect for your own life, Hephaestion. There are many who love you and would be devastated if those mercenaries had succeeded last night. Please, Phae...."

Pulling his lips in over his teeth, Hephaestion kept his eyes turned resolutely away. Alexander knew better than to press him at the moment. If he did, Hephaestion would simply become stubborn and dig his heels in needlessly. Hephaestion could be utterly frustrating that way.

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Grabbing his hair in a fist at the base of his skull, Hephaestion tugged on it sharply. He longed to make Alexander understand that there was nothing about him that required such care and concern. Hephaestion had long ago come to the realization that whatever was done to him that he managed to survive only made him that much more ready to protect Alexander's life. The more that he could train himself to endure, the more he could guard Alexander against.

"Your face does not look as bad as I had feared," Alexander murmured, his fingers ghosting over Hephaestion's damaged cheek. "It is quite swollen, but that should fade in a day or so. Does it hurt badly?"

Hephaestion shook his head, leaning into Alexander's touch until he felt the briefest twinges of pain. "Only some. It is more stiff than anything. Tight."

"I am still amazed that is the worst of your injuries," Alexander mused, shaking his head in disbelief. "Any other man I know would have been dead or more seriously injured. I cannot envision being safer in the company of an entire squadron of bodyguards than I would be with you."

Hephaestion found himself grinning softly, reaching a hand up to link his finger with Alexander's. "Then it will be worth it."

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There was utter silence when Alexander and Hephaestion arrived in the barrack mess hall for the mid-day meal. Those who had not been present in the room after Hephaestion had killed the mercenaries were equally as startled by the Athenian's appearance as those who had been. Ptolemy and those around him winced in sympathy at the swollen, mangled mess that was Hephaestion's right eye.

Hephaestion himself winced when he saw the slender red line near the base of Perdiccas' neck. "My deepest apologies. I did not mean to harm you," Hephaestion immediately apologized as he sat down across from the other man. "I did not even realize that it—"

"There is no need, Hephaestion," Perdiccas interrupted him, silencing whatever else Hephaestion would have said. "After what had just happened I should not have been idiotic enough to touch you without first alerting you. If anything, I should be thanking you for the help you have given me with Cleonystra."

"Yes, apparently that wee scratch is enough to have him fussed over like an amputee," Nearchus snorted into his wine glass. "You should have seen her cooing over him. It was as though he had just returned from war instead of simply been dumped on his ass."

Unrepentant in the least, Perdiccas merely grinned broadly as he saluted Hephaestion with a chicken drumstick. Next to him, Seleucus rolled his eyes as he nudged the platter of food within Alexander and Hephaestion's reach. Ptolemy watched the pair silently, noting the tension in Hephaestion's body and how he was once again as on edge as he had been when they had returned from Illyria. His gaze was always moving about and he had positioned himself in such a way that he could clearly see, and get to, the exit. Hephaestion had chosen to sit against the wall so that no one could sneak up behind him without him first being aware of it.

"What was done with the bodies?" Hephaestion asked after swallowing a mouthful of wine.

Ptolemy was the one to answer. "They were burned this morning. The king has all of their possessions, but what he will do with them is anyone's guess."

Hephaestion nodded his head briefly, but said nothing more on the subject. Ptolemy could tell that there was more Alexander wanted to know, but so long as Hephaestion said nothing he kept silent about it. It did not surprise Ptolemy that Alexander had not yet been to see his father. He could not imagine Alexander wanting to let Hephaestion out of his sight for some time. The matter with Olympias and her assassins was a matter of state now that she had sent them into the army barracks so it was uncertain just how privy Hephaestion would be to the inquiry of events. At least officially. It would have surprised Ptolemy if Alexander did not reveal information to Hephaestion as he himself learned it.

"If you have any say in the matter, Alexander, I would be most obliged if you could keep them from putting our room in order for a few days longer," Perdiccas said as they were all rising from the meal. "Cleonystra has been most obliging in giving me a warm bed and a roof over my head until the whole matter is sorted out."

Though none of them made mention of it, Ptolemy was certain that Alexander would be just as content to keep Hephaestion close to him for a while yet.


	5. Part V

**Part V**

Despite his best efforts otherwise, Alexander found himself separated from Hephaestion not long after the mid-day meal. As he had expected, his father had required his presence in the meeting with his generals discussing both the coming war in Persia and the infiltration of the barracks the night before. A general himself, and responsible for a portion of the army, Alexander could hardly beg off attending simply because he wanted to keep Hephaestion close to him.

Alexander kept his expression impassive even while he listened intently to the report given by the guards on duty the night before. The ones who had been on the second watch when Hephaestion had been attacked. Were it up to him he would have wrung the information from them with torture. At least that way he could be more assured of their honesty.

"I swear to you, sire, that we neither saw nor heard nothing," Hektor stammered, glancing about at the gathered generals. At his side, young Glaucus looked equally frazzled. "No one passed us by who did not have reason to be there. Every man who entered was a member of the Vanguard, Macedonian born. We did not see a single Illyrian."

"These men who you say passed you, what are their names?" Alexander demanded, leaning forward slightly in his chair. He could not afford to be too eager even though those present already knew of his love for Hephaestion.

Between them, Hektor, Glaucus, and their third companion Pendius recounted the names of the soldiers who had entered the barracks during their watch. Alexander memorized each of the names, drawing forth memories of their faces immediately. To his memory, none of those named were of any consequence and had always served loyally. More importantly, none of them had ever borne Hephaestion any ill will. Nicanor, in particular, was a friend of his lover's.

"Timeus' wife had given birth to a son—a fine lad, too—so we were out celebrating his good fortune," Nicanor informed the assembled group. "Unfortunately, I can recall seeing nothing. I had been too much in my cups."

It was the same with Timeus, Scimanedes, and Aristander; friends all of them who had been celebrating the birth of Timeus' newborn son. The few others who had entered the barracks during the second watch had been men assigned to duties around the city, their lateness accounted for.

"I am sorry I can be of no further help," Nicanor said quietly to Alexander afterwards. "If I had seen something, I would have raised the alarm. Even without knowing that it was Hephaestion in danger, I would have raised the alarm."

Alexander smiled tightly, clasping the other man on the shoulder. "I have no doubt that you would have. You are his friend."

"He is a good man."

"So are you, Nicanor." That time Alexander's smile came easier. "I will remember it."

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Though technically a matter of state, Philip had decided to leave the fate of Olympias to him and Alexander alone. He did not want to involve others in affairs that revolved solely within their family circle. So when he excused the rest of his generals for the afternoon, he motioned for Alexander to remain behind.

"I should return to the Vanguard," Alexander insisted once the two of them were alone in the king's great study. "There is a new maneuver we have only begun work on yesterday."

"Soon enough, boy," Philip said gruffly as he refilled his cup. He drained the remainder of the ewer into a second cup for Alexander. "We need to discuss your mother."

Slumping back into his abandoned seat, Alexander scrubbed a hand over his face. "I have already given my opinion on the matter, Father."

"Yes, I am well aware of your rantings from last night," Philip said calmly, handing Alexander the second cup before sitting himself in the empty chair next to his son. "But this is a new day and things have calmed. Now it is time to discuss these things as men do."

"I still want her to die," Alexander insisted, his fingers tight on the silver cup. "The very thought of her sickens me to my very core."

Philip swallowed a mouthful of wine. "Aye, she can certainly have that effect. Unfortunately, at the moment, I cannot afford to have her killed."

"Cleopatra is marrying Alexandros in a few months, surely—"

"Drink your wine," Philip ordered, cutting off Alexander's protests. "I know your opinion of things—and be assured that I share it—but things are not so simple. Hephaestion is not Macedonian."

Alexander's entire body stiffened, eyes going wide. "Hephaestion is a soldier in this army. He is a member of the Vanguard and one of my Companions. He deserves just as much respect as any other Macedonian born soldier."

"Yet the fact remains that he is Athenian and the tribes will not look kindly on my killing an Epirot princess over an Athenian," Philip explained patiently, leaning back so that he could stretch out his stiff knee. "I cannot afford to have the northern tribes rebel against me right now."

"She cannot be allowed to run free after what she has done," Alexander ground out, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Nor will she," Philip assured him, taking another drink of wine. "I plan on having her confined more securely with less access to her lackeys. Pydna, most likely."

"But then... she will be back in Macedon," Alexander stammered, staring at his father with wide eyes.

"Where I can keep a closer eye on her. The garrison will be mine and I can more closely monitor who will gets in to see her," Philip explained and reached over to squeeze his son's knee in reassurance. He handed his cup to Alexander then heaved himself to his feet. "She will be an official prisoner now rather than an exile."

Philip took his cup back from Alexander's unresponsive grip. The boy was staring down at the floor between his feet, but Philip doubted he was actually seeing any of it. He wished that there was something he could say to make things better for his son. Squeezing Alexander's shoulder briefly, Philip went back to his desk. It was best to leave the boy to his thoughts for the time being.

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Hephaestion turned his head to the side, muffling a yawn against his shoulder. His hands were otherwise occupied, currying his horse following an afternoon of training on the field. Once Alexander had gone off following the mid-day meal, he had convinced his captain that he was fit for the field. The swelling was not so great, he was able to open his right eye most of the way, and none of his injuries hindered his movement in any way. In truth they were hardly significant enough to even acknowledge now that sleep and food had reenergized him.

"It is a wonder you can stand being near that brute," Hephaestion spoke softly to his mount. Xanthus' withers twitched, more a response to the curry brush than what he had said. "Every other horse in the stables has sense enough to stay away from Bucephalas."

At that, Xanthus stomped his foot, snuffling loudly. That afternoon had not been the first time that he had found his mount and Alexander's secluded on their own in a corner of the paddock. He could let one of the grooms fetch the horse, but Bucephalas was much more even tempered around him. Hephaestion at least was less likely to get snapped at than the grooms. The worst Hephaestion had received from the temperamental horse lately was a roll of those great black eyes and a snort of annoyance.

"I am utterly convinced that you made a pact with some god or other to gain that kind of stamina."

Hephaestion chuckled quietly, glancing over Xanthus' shoulder at Perdiccas who was leading his mount into the next stall. "Perhaps if you did not spend your nights drinking quite so much you might be able to function the next day."

"You drink at least as much as I do," Perdiccas shot back.

"Yes, but I drink it over the course of a night. You drink the same amount in the course of an hour."

Perdiccas scowled at him and Hephaestion could hear Leonnatus and Seleucus laughing somewhere behind him. As expected, he had given them more than enough ammunition to begin bickering among themselves while he merely stood back watching. It was not something that any of them did out of malice, but rather a way to amuse themselves and keep their wits sharp. It would have shocked Hephaestion more if Seleucus, Leonnatus, Perdiccas or the rest bore each other any ill will. They had all been raised together, their friendships formed while Hephaestion had still been in Athens. Hephaestion had been eight when his father had brought him north from Athens and by that time friendships had already been formed and alliances already made. For the first few months he had mostly fallen by the wayside of the adventures that only young boys are capable of. Hephaestion had always been tall enough and strong enough that the other boys had never tormented him, he had simply been forgotten.

"Are you coming with us, Hephaestion?" Seleucus called as he and the others made their way out of the stables.

Hephaestion shook his head. "Go on ahead. I will meet you in the mess hall later."

He was not overly surprised by the slightly dubious look his response received, but in the end the group went away without pressing the matter. Hephaestion was grateful for it. Their ready departure was far easier than him attempting to explain his intended plans.

A short while later, rucksack thrown over his shoulder, Hephaestion made his way through the marketplace where he purchased a small portion of bread, cheese, and olives, as well as a skin of wine. He was able to pass without question through the city gates, having shared drinks with the soldiers on duty in the past. Almost as soon as he had passed through the gates, Hephaestion left the main road, taking a well-worn path that led down towards the river.

It was a relief to get away from the noise and bustle of, not only the barracks, but Pella itself. Hephaestion wanted nothing more than a few moments to himself, away from prying eyes and whispering lips. Hephaestion would admit to having a thicker skin than most, but even he required respite on occasion. He had left word at the barracks for one of the pages to assure Alexander that he would return by the closing of the gates. Alexander would worry regardless, but he could only hope that his love would heed his request not to follow him.

Spring was in full force. The rains that only weeks before had driven them all to insanity had left in their wake vibrant plains and sprouting flowers. The whole of the world was coming to life once again just as it did every year, the river swollen with run-off from the distant mountains. Were it not for his duty to Philip, Hephaestion would have been utterly content to remain free from the walls of any city.

As he followed the less-used path to the river, Hephaestion had to duck and weave his way through the budding vines which had been strengthened by the recent rains. It would have been far easier to hack his way through the undergrowth, but Hephaestion was reluctant to. It seemed a shame to ruin something so new to life.

When he reached the banks of the river, Hephaestion immediately dumped his rucksack upon the ground and began stripping out of his sweaty chiton. His dusty cavalry boots followed them onto the grassy bank. The last thing Hephaestion removed was his medallion. Reverently lifting it over his head, he wound the leather thong around the wooden disc before settling it deep in his rucksack where it would not be misplaced.

The breath was momentarily stolen from him as he stepped into the swollen, fast-flowing river. The rivers in Pella could hardly ever be considered warm, but so early in spring the water was positively freezing. Hephaestion waded in quickly, submerging himself completely as soon as the water was deep enough—and was utterly convinced that he could see his own breath when he came back up.

After a few minutes, though, once he had become used to the temperature, Hephaestion relaxed into the water's embrace, allowing it to buoy him. He was suspended, reclining with his feet resting on the rocky bottom and his chest hovering just below the surface. Spreading his arms out lifted his feet further off the bottom and for a brief moment Hephaestion was able to convince himself that he was floating; held weightless above the earth. It was a fanciful notion, one that he and Alexander had shared when they were boys. Many afternoons they had lain back floating rivers or ponds, imagining they were among the gods, watching over events so far below them, but not a part of them. Quarrels and intrigues that had little to do with them were forgotten in those moments.

The current moved too swiftly for him to maintain such an activity for long and he was forced to reorient himself back on the ground. Unfortunate though it was, it was far easier to scrub at his skin with the added leverage of his feet in the muddy soil. With a pumice stone, he scrubbed his skin raw, unmindful of the cuts he had received the night before. He scrubbed until his flesh was a dark pink and tingling as the water sloshed over it. Still, though, it did not feel enough. Even as blood was drawn where there were no slashes, it did not feel to Hephaestion as though he had scrubbed enough.

It was only when his grip on the stone faltered and it tumbled to the bottom of the river did he stop. Leaning back so that he was able to wet his hair once again, Hephaestion raked his fingers through the liquid strands, cleaning away any debris that might have gotten tangled in it.

Using the dirty chiton to dry himself, Hephaestion sat on his abandoned cloak and immediately reached into his rucksack searching for the medallion. He did not like to be long without it, its weight against his chest comforting. Pushing his hair from his face with one hand, Hephaestion reached for the wrapped sack that contained his meal. He settled it between his feet and sat contentedly in the late afternoon sun, munching and drinking from the skin of wine he had purchased in the city. It was utter simplicity and Hephaestion cherished it, his own life having been anything but the past few years.

It had nothing even to do with he and Alexander being lovers. Regardless of such things, he had always been the one most often chosen as the young prince's confidant. Hephaestion had long suspected that, in the beginning, it had been more novelty than anything else that had led Alexander to confess his troubles to him. Hephaestion had been the new face among Alexander's group of chosen playmates—an Athenian, no less. He had been able to enrapture Alexander for hours telling him stories of his home and things he had seen in the epicenter of Greece. Not just the silly or scandalous things that took place among the common people, but anything that he could recall about the army or soldier talk that he had overheard. From a young age, Alexander had shared his father's fascination with all things Greek.

Only with the setting of the sun did Hephaestion reluctantly leave his solitude. Did he not run the risk of worrying Alexander he would have remained out longer. Truth be, he felt once again centered enough to return to the barracks. He dressed slowly in a clean chiton, lacing his hair back with a leather cord, and fastening the ties of his boots. With a careless shrug, Hephaestion looped his chlamys over his shoulder even as he was already turning back towards the path.

When he arrived at the barracks a short while later, it did not surprise him overmuch to find Alexander waiting for him on his bed. His love had been reading a scroll, but immediately set it aside when the door opened.

"Should I always expect such a welcome when I go to bathe?" Hephaestion mused as he let his rucksack tumble to the ground.

"Next time you should wait for me so that I may scrub your back. Or your front, if you are of the mood."

Chuckling, Hephaestion sat down next to Alexander, cupping his cheek. "My very own water nymph. I had forgotten these aquatic habits of yours. Achilles reborn, sprung from the womb of Thetis."

"My Patroclus," Alexander sighed, leaning forward so that his forehead rested against Hephaestion's. He slowly blinked his eyes shut, inhaling deeply. "You smell of the forest."

"A fine compliment to your own attributes, my sprite."

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Hephaestion had drifted off to sleep some time ago, curled against his chest. It was a contented, sated sleep judging by the slight smile that was tugging at the corners of Hephaestion's lips and the relaxed lines in his face. The sight of Hephaestion so relaxed brought a smile to Alexander's face.

It had taken some time after the meeting in his father's office for Alexander to shake the clouds that had darkened his mind. His mother's fate could not be avoided. She had brought it on herself when he had ordered Hephaestion attacked within the walls of the city. Worse still, while he had been asleep in the barracks. She had to have known that his father would not have allowed such a thing to go unpunished.

Before the new moon dawned his mother would be imprisoned at Pydna where she would remain under watch for the rest of her days. Alexander was not fool enough to think that such a thing would stop he plotting, but it would significantly hinder her.

"She will not harm you again," Alexander whispered against Hephaestion's brow. "I will kill her myself if she tries, Furies be damned."

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On the other side of the room, King Philip snored loudly. Even though the sot was deeply unconscious, Pausanias kept his movements as silent as possible so as not to wake the slumbering wretch. His skin slick and polluted where the slobbering beast had touched and pawed at him, but such sacrifices were necessary.

So while the brute slumbered away, Pausanias sifted through the papers that were piled on his desk in search of any useful information for his queen. Together they would see that the conceited fool was made to pay for his crimes.

There was a loud snort from the bed as the beast shuffled onto his side, during which Pausanias held himself utterly still. After a moment, the snoring began again, the odd grunt intermitted. Only when he was sure that his bedmate would not wake did Pausanias continue his search.

With the most gratifying results.

All that was necessary now was to find the proper scapegoat.


	6. Part VI

**Part VI**

The warhorse under him shifted in agitation, pawing at the ground irritably. Like his mount, Philip was eager to join in with the demonstration being presented by the Vanguard. The current set of maneuvers was Alexander's brainchild, the anticipation of what he would see making Philip more restless. But as he watched the fluidity and the unity with which the cavalry unit moved, he felt nothing but pride. Many of the riders were twice again as old as Alexander, yet they followed Alexander's commands with just as much enthusiasm as the new pups.

"He is a true credit to you, Philip," said Antipater who sat mounted on his left.

"The boy is a marvel," Philip mused, more to himself than to his longtime comrade. His eyes were locked on Alexander's constantly moving form, the brilliant white crest distinguishing him from those around him.

Scanning over the entire regiment over, Philip found his gaze drawn to the column immediately to Alexander's right. The column that would soon be captained by Hephaestion Amyntoros. The column's current captain would be relocated to a different regiment in a few days' time and Philip could think of no better man to be responsible for guarding his son's right side. He had no doubt that Amyntor's boy would slaughter the whole of the Persian army to keep Alexander safe from any serious hurt.

Even without any sign of visible threat it was obvious that Hephaestion was aware of Alexander's every move. His actions shadowed Alexander's while still maintaining his own formation. The boy would certainly make a fine general some day.

In the days that had followed the attempt on his life, Philip had met with Hephaestion away from Alexander, wanting to assure himself that he was well. Philip was familiar enough with the dynamics of their relationship to know that Hephaestion would not hesitate to mask the seriousness of his injuries to spare Alexander. The fact that Hephaestion had escaped relatively unscathed from the ordeal was nothing short of miraculous; something which Hephaestion bore with great humility.

"_There was no time for thought. I reacted only as I would in battle: instinctively and efficiently so that I might still be alive once my foe had fallen." _

"_What you did, boy, is not something that can be trained," Philip had informed him rather bluntly. "I know many a veteran soldier who would have been dead after such an encounter. And it has nothing to do with training. The gods favour you." _

_Hephaestion had merely smiled at him, somewhat wryly. "Perhaps then I am still needed to keep Alexander in check a while longer."_

There had been no hint of self-importance in the words, just a simple truth as Hephaestion saw it. It was also one that Philip himself was inclined to believe at times. Even Aristotle had noted on occasion the affinity between the two boys in some of the reports he had sent back from Mieza. Under normal circumstances, Philip would have warned Alexander against placing too much trust in one individual, but he did not think that it was in Hephaestion to use his relationship with Alexander for personal gain. Others would have flouted their relationship with the prince for whatever privileges it would avail them, but such had never been the case with Hephaestion.

Were he honest about it, Philip would admit that he envied his son such a deep friendship. While Philip himself had generals who supported him, he knew that it was based more out of respect for his abilities and the power he granted them. Not since he was a boy, younger than Alexander and Hephaestion were then, had Philip fully trusted those around him.

Once the demonstration was complete, Alexander flashed a wide grin up the hill to where Philip had been watching the proceedings before allowing himself to be swallowed up by the Vanguard. Through it all, Philip could see Hephaestion at Alexander's side.

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Kneeling before a newly carved image of the god Nemesis, Alexander brought a lit taper to the mound of incense in the finely carved marble bowl directly in front of it. Blowing out the taper, he waited for enough of the musky smoke to build up then cupped his hands, directing its flow briefly towards himself several times over. Alexander inhaled deeply, infusing his senses with its fragrance.

"I beseech you, Nemesis, avenger of those who have been wronged, to look to one Hephaestion Amyntoros and take vengeance on his behalf," Alexander murmured, taking up a skin of wine and pouring its contents into a golden chalice. "He has been persecuted for reasons that have nothing to do with him and has twice nearly lost his life. Though the Furies may curse me for it, I ask you to look to my mother Olympias as the source of all his hurts. Since Hephaestion will never ask for vengeance on his behalf, it falls to me as the one who loves him most."

Once he had made his plea to the god, Alexander reached for the covered bowl at his side. He removed the linen covering and reached in to remove the still bloodied heart it contained. Holding it in both hands, Alexander bowed his head and set the calf's heart in a heavy stone bowl on the alter before him. Already in the bottom of the bowl was some tinder and it was to the small sticks that Alexander set the flame of his second taper.

"My offering to you, Nemesis, the heart a calf born pure black and without blemish. The animal itself was slain not an hour ago by my own hand." Alexander inhaled deeply, his head bowed. The flame before him was beginning to crackle and hiss and blood and other fluids dripped down into the growing fire. "I give you its heart in place of my own for each time that Hephaestion has suffered it is in my heart that I feel his pain. I give you this heart for it is Hephaestion's heart that remains strong through all of his suffering. Hephaestion will never seek vengeance on his own behalf, so I implore you to see that those tortured him either in mind or in body are given the punishment they deserve."

Once he had made his plea to the god, Alexander lifted the goblet, dribbling a portion of it overtop of the small statue of Nemesis before swallowing the rest himself. Alexander then sat back on his heels while the incense and his small pyre burned themselves out.

If he had any idea of what he was doing, Hephaestion would have been furious with him. After their return from Mieza more than a year before, Alexander had brought up the idea of making a petition to Nemesis to punish the nameless faces that Hephaestion could not recall. Hephaestion had turned him down then and Alexander had abided by his wishes, instead making an offering to his divine ancestor Heracles for sharing his strength with Hephaestion so that the latter was able to survive his trials. This second time Hephaestion's life had been placed in danger Alexander had simply forgone asking his lover's permission to ask for vengeance on his behalf because whether Hephaestion believed it or not he was worth petitioning Zeus himself.

When at last the heart had burned itself out Alexander crossed his arms over his chest, inclining his head to the god as he rose to his feet. He added a second handful of incense into both bowls and set light to them as well. Alexander ensured that they took the flames before bowing his head yet again and leaving his chambers.

Moving silently down the corridor, Alexander was genuinely confused when he turned a corner and saw Hephaestion flanked by two Royal Guards. His lover was being led towards the king's study. When Hephaestion noticed him, the older man lifted his head and offered him a tight-lipped smile. Whatever was happening, Hephaestion was obviously as unaware as he was.

Hephaestion was announced by the guards and ushered into the study. Alexander himself was left alone in the corridor wondering just what was going on.

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Standing alert with his eyes trained at the wall above the king's head and his hands clasped behind his back, Hephaestion waited for Philip to finish with what he was doing and acknowledging him. He did not know the reason for his summoning to the king's study, having been called away from his duties without a word.

Hephaestion could think of no reason why Philip would need to speak with him. After their last meeting nearly a week before Hephaestion had thought that there was nothing new for them to discuss. To his knowledge, the events of a week ago were finished and there was no need to dwell on them. Alexander had told him of Philip's plan to have Olympias imprisoned at Pydna, grumbling that it was not punishment enough for what she had done. That Hephaestion had been of a different opinion had baffled his lover. Hephaestion himself was content in the knowledge that her two lackeys were dead. During their first encounter, those two had brought him to his knees, but of the three of them it was Hephaestion who was still standing at the end of it all.

"Hephaestion, lad, it is good to see you well," the king said by way of greeting.

Hephaestion inclined his head briefly. "Sire."

Philip leaned back in his chair and picked up a scroll, holding it upraised between the middle and index fingers of both hands. "I am certain you are aware by now that your captain Myknos is set to become a member of the Companion Cavalry."

Once again Hephaestion's head bobbed briefly. "I am, my lord."

"It is my intention to have you named captain of your column in his stead," Philip revealed, holding the scroll out towards Hephaestion.

Hephaestion stared at the rolled piece of parchment, knowing that on it was his commission as a captain in the Vanguard. It was a promotion that caught him utterly off guard as it was completely unexpected. There were certainly others better suited to the promotion, moreso than he was.

"I do not mean to question you, sire, but certainly there are others more worthy of bearing the title," Hephaestion murmured, biting nervously at the inside of his bottom lip.

"There are others who have served longer, and perhaps even some have had greater distinction in battle," Philip admitted, scratching at the corner of his jaw with one end of the scroll. "Those men, however, are not the tactician that you are. I have witnessed some of these mock battles you and my son's other companions take part in and have noticed your abilities in single combat. You have won duels that by rights should have seen you the loser. Aristotle has also praised your ability to puzzle things out where others flounder. You can see your way around things which is what I want in my officers."

Hephaestion sucked in his lower lips between his teeth, considering things. "And what should happen if I refuse this commission?"

"I hope that you will accept it."

Though he still had his reservations about the promotion, Hephaestion was not fool enough to decline Philip's offer. He could not put from his mind the possibility that he was being offered the rank in reparation for what had happened the week before. News of Myknos' impending relocation to the Companion Cavalry was a week or so older than his own ordeal, the transfer only awaiting a decision on the current captain's replacement.

Pursing his lips outwards, Hephaestion nodded his head briefly and held out a hand to accept the commission.

"I humbly thank you for the opportunity to prove myself, sire," Hephaestion murmured as his fingers closed about the scroll. "I will strive to live up to the faith you have in my abilities."

"Of that I have no doubt, lad," Philip grinned, leaning back once again in his chair.

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After the demonstration that afternoon, the mess hall was absolutely raucous that evening when the Vanguard sat down to eat. The wine was flowing, the flood was plentiful, and the women were affectionate. At present, Perdiccas had one woman on his lap and a second wrapped around him from behind. The wine was abundant enough that, for the moment at least, Cleonystra was content to share his affections with Lysimache. It was a blessing from the gods that he planned to thank Aphrodite for the following day.

"Lysimache, my fair sprite, have you forsaken me so soon?" Leonnatus sighed pitifully, but with enough volume to be heard over the noise. "I swear to you, the girl was nothing to me."

Perdiccas was not the least surprised that the girl fell victim to Leonnatus' sad face. He had not been fool enough to think that her affections had lain elsewhere. The romantic drama of those two had amused them all for quite some time. Quarrels that consisted of endless sulking and sighing for some indiscretion—normally on Leonnatus' part—that was ended once she made him wretched enough. Perdiccas could not think of why the man bothered; there were women enough in Pella without the endless hassle.

Late to arrive, Alexander and Hephaestion entered together; the former nearly bursting he was so full of joy. As always, Hephaestion was more sedate, but a grin was evident on his face nonetheless.

"All of you, fill your cups," Alexander cheered as he grabbed up the nearest jug of wine. "As you all know, this is likely to be Myknos last celebration with us for on the morrow he becomes a member of our revered Companion Cavalry."

A great cheer went up, the men all toasting Myknos who bore the praise with good humour.

"Our loss, however, means that one must be raised to fill his place," Alexander continued once the noise had died down some. "My father, our honoured King Philip, has made the decision of who the next captain shall be and has chosen Hephaestion to take charge of Myknos' column."

Another cheer went up, no less enthusiastic than the first. Hephaestion appeared quite surprised by the sound of the acclaim. Perdiccas could not help but marvel at the fact that Hephaestion had such little regard for himself and his abilities. Any other man he knew would have been boasting to no end after killing two men single-handed in pitch darkness. In true form, though, Hephaestion made barely a peep about what had happened; even glossing over concerns about his well being.

While everyone was still busy shouting Myknos' and Hephaestion's praises, Perdiccas watched as Hephaestion whispered something in Alexander's ear, the latter flushing slightly as a result. Whatever would have happened next was interrupted as Hephaestion was drawn away into celebration with some other comrades: the men that he would soon be commanding.

"The man of the hour has arrived!" Seleucus cheered as Alexander neared them. "Now the serious drinking can begin!"

Alexander rolled his eyes, swallowing a mouthful of lightly watered wine. "I find it highly doubtful that you need any excuse to drink. Do not look so smug, Peucestas, for you are just as guilty."

Ever a man with a sense of timing, Ptolemy chose that moment to refill Peucestas' cup. They all laughed at that, including Alexander as he slumped down gracefully on an empty couch. While the serving girls plied Alexander with food they all knew better than to bother attempting to drape themselves all over him. It would be a useless endeavor when there were other much more willing bedmates in the room and Alexander's bed was already spoken for. If any it tried, it would be a futile thing. Perdiccas, like the rest of their group, al knew when it was necessary to give the pair time alone.

_Turning his head to take a swig from the skin of wine he had commandeered earlier, Perdiccas caught sight of a familiar pair of heads bent close together. Since they appeared to be without wine, an unacceptable state of affairs, he snatched the skin from Seleucus and wobbled his way towards them. No man should be without wine or a comfortable pair of thighs to enjoy that night at Chaeronea. _

"_Xand! Phaesté!" _

_Perdiccas very nearly gave up when the two seemed not to have heard them and instead wandered further into the darkness. However, since he could not allow his general or his friend to do without wine on such a fine night, he persisted, following them through the maze of tents out towards a nearby outcropping. He was slowed up momentarily after tripping over what he assumed was a rock. _

_He was about to shout for them again, but the words died on his tongue as he sighted the knife in Alexander's hand. Alexander and Hephaestion were facing each other, their left hands clasped, wrists pointed upwards. Perdiccas was too far away to hear what passed between them, but moon and torchlight made their actions visible. _

_It was Alexander who moved first, slicing Hephaestion's wrist with the knife. Hephaestion reciprocated the act then dropped the knife to the ground. With their free hands, each smeared his own inky blood on the other's face. Cheeks, foreheads, even chins and lips. As their clothes began to follow the path of the knife, Perdiccas turned his back to them and wandered back towards the celebration._

"Here, love, let me fill your cup," Cleonystra murmured, taking the silver cup from his fingers.

Winding his arms about her waist, Perdiccas pressed his face into her wonderfully scented neck, earning him a giggle and some exquisite wiggling about as he nibbled at her petal-soft skin.

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Fingers winding into the hair at the nape of his neck was the only warning Alexander had before his head was tugged back and lips planted firmly against his own. The thumb massaging circles against his skull revealed the owner of the lips and he immediately opened his lips to the questing tongue.

"You have been drinking the unwatered wine," Alexander murmured against Hephaestion's lips as his lover drew back.

"Nicanor insisted on it," Hephaestion giggled as he clambered onto the couch. "He said that I could not properly celebrate drinking the watered stuff."

Chuckling, Alexander drew Hephaestion down against him, one arm around his waist, the other his shoulders. "I would hope that you did not drink that much so that we can do some celebrating of our own."

Hephaestion clamped his teeth around Alexander's earlobe. "The last mouthful only was unwatered," he said in a voice that was only loud enough for Alexander to hear. "It will give us reason enough to escape early should the need arise."

At the smug look on Hephaestion's face when Alexander turned to face him, he could not contain a loud burst of laughter. Hephaestion may not have been entirely drunk, but he was certainly joyful. As the night continued, Hephaestion's contented mood only grew. Through it all, however, Alexander noticed that Hephaestion was quite alert of what was going on around him. His eyes were constantly darting about even as he traded insults with Seleucus and Leonnatus, and debated with Ptolemy.

Enjoyable as the night was, Alexander was eager to celebrate alone with Hephaestion. For nearly the entire walk from the palace to the barracks, Hephaestion had kept secret what it was that he had spoken of with the king. Ever humble, Hephaestion had admitted in a quiet voice that he was to be made a captain only steps away from the mess hall. Alexander had only had time to grab Hephaestion up in a quick hug, kissing him quite soundly before pulling him into the hall.

Several hours later, Alexander was quite certain that both had stayed long enough and murmured his escape plan in Hephaestion's ear. His lover grinned and a few minutes later wandered over to where Nicanor and some of his other friends were carousing. Waiting long as he could withstand it, Alexander then left their gathering under the pretence that he was going to relieve himself.

"Should Seleucus and I find different beds to sleep in tonight?"

Alexander had known that their friends would not be fooled, but the attempt still had to be made. He could not help but be amused knowing that, even while intoxicated, the others had been able to discern their motivations. After so many years together they had all come to know each other's habits. Including not entirely veiled attempts at seeking solitude.

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While listening intently to Nicanor and Timeus blather back and forth, Hephaestion made sure that Alexander remained ever in his peripheral vision. It would not do for him to miss his lover's exit, and, consequently, his own. He was not naive enough to think that either he or Alexander were fooling anyone with their departure. Even so, it would not do to be too obvious and stir up gossip further.

"The prince seems to be making an escape," Timeus said, nudging Nicanor who stood next to him.

"How much longer will we enjoy your company?" Nicanor asked Hephaestion, arching a brow. "I must say that this is longer than I had expected you to stay."

Smirking at the both of them, Hephaestion made his farewells and followed after Alexander. In truth, Hephaestion would have been content to spend the entire night alone with Alexander. Hephaestion knew, though, that there was a role he must play as a soldier. The excessive drinking was of no consequence; he had lived in Macedon long enough to have built up a tolerance to the great quantity of wine a Macedonian man could put away in a single night. He would be a liar, though, if he claimed to prefer the sometimes hedonistic drinking parties to a less raucous affair. A night where ideas flowed just as copiously as the wine. Such nights had passed with their time in Mieza and now only infrequently was he able to enjoy such pleasures.

Hephaestion had only just stepped beyond the fan of light that escaped the open door when he was immediately grabbed up by a pair of arms. Knowing whose arms they were, he did not tense. Instead he leaned back into the welcoming embrace, turning his head in order to kiss the lips that were searching out his own.

"You are utterly impatient," Hephaestion murmured, resting his forehead against Alexander's temple. "If we are not careful, the door will open upon us."

"Then we should go to a place where there are no doors."

Hephaestion chuckled quietly. "If there are no doors then how are we expected to get in?"

Though he could not see it, Hephaestion could sense as Alexander rolled his eyes. They remained in their current position a few moments longer before Alexander slowly drew away, keeping the fingers of his left hand linked with Hephaestion's. Fingers wound together, the two of them made their way from the barracks and up to the palace.

Once inside Alexander's rooms, two tall braziers and a thick rug did away with the door.


	7. Part VII

**Part VII**

It was strange for him to wake in Alexander's bed without the other man still lying at his side. Stranger still that Alexander was nowhere to be found in the room at all. Rising cautiously to his feet, Hephaestion automatically reached for the knife he had left on the small stand next to the bed. Hephaestion moved about slowly on the balls of his feet, knife held near his hip, as he glanced first towards the balcony and then silently made his way towards the outer room. He could hear no sound, but saw immediately that the carpet had been removed from the doorway and was lying in a pile on the floor. The braziers were still standing upright, a sure sign that the rug had been purposefully removed from the inside. Wherever Alexander was, he would likely return before long.

Relaxing his stance, Hephaestion moved about the main room of Alexander's suite in search of the new scrolls Alexander had received earlier in the week. It did not take him long to spot them, but what caught his attention more was a figure on the small alter near to the archway that led out to the balcony. Setting his knife down on the altar, Hephaestion gently picked up the figure of Nemesis that stood central on the altar.

"I did not want this," Hephaestion whispered as he set the statue back upon the altar.

He then picked up his knife and, not knowing what type of offering Alexander had made, cut himself widthwise across his left palm. Hephaestion squeezed his fist tight, drawing forth enough blood so that it dripped atop the head of the statue. "Great Nemesis, I humbly beseech that any offerings given on my behalf not harm Alexander in any way. Should vengeance be taken on Queen Olympias, I ask that it be taken on my request and not Alexander's. That snake of a women is a poison on the soul and he should not be made to suffer on her account." Crossing his closed fists over his chest, Hephaestion bowed his head respectfully to the god's image.

Opening his fist, Hephaestion shook the remaining droplets of blood from his palm. The cut itself was not deep, Hephaestion had made sure of it, and the blood flow had already slowed to a trickle. He closed his fist more lightly a second time, holding it palm-upwards as he glanced about for something to bind the wound. Hephaestion could see nothing readily available so he returned to Alexander's bed chamber where there would likely be some scraps of cloth near the wash basin.

Dipping one of the washing cloths into large water bowl, Hephaestion began to wipe away the blood that was smeared across his left palm. He kept that damp cloth folded and pressed against the wound, using a second to bind it in place. It was awkward, but he managed to tie the cloth so that it was sturdy enough not to fall away as he dressed.

As he fastened his belt, Hephaestion realized that he had left his knife behind in the main room. Not wanting Alexander to be immediately aware of what he had done, he hurried out to retrieve the blade. Hephaestion had it sheathed at his waist a minute later and was heading back towards the bed chamber to put on his boots when the door opened.

"I had hoped that you would still be asleep."

Chuckling quietly, Hephaestion pushed his hair from his face with his right hand. "You left the bed cold."

"I could not have been gone that long," Alexander protested, pushing the door closed with his foot. He held out the tray in his hands to Hephaestion. "Take this, will you?"

The tray had wine, bread, cheese, and fruit, most likely their breakfast, and Hephaestion held it while Alexander closed the door more firmly. It was still early enough that they were not expected elsewhere, the Vanguard themselves having been given the day free to do as they would. Alexander seemed to be of a mind to take advantage of their brief bit of freedom, and Hephaestion was not entirely inclined to stop him.

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"What happened to your hand?" Alexander asked as he and Hephaestion sat on the balcony breaking their morning fast. When Hephaestion did not respond, he motioned towards his love's left hand, taping the edge of the bandage with his small finger. "I do not remember that being there last night."

Hephaestion turned his hand over, contracting his fingers briefly a few times. "I foolishly set my knife down with the blade facing towards me and caught the edge when I went to pick it up. It is nothing serious and probably does not even require bandaging. I just did not want to get blood on my chiton. It is the last clean one I have."

Alexander made the necessary teasing comments, but did not entirely believe Hephaestion's story. The other man was far too precise and careful with his weapons to be so reckless. Whatever Hephaestion had done had no doubt been deliberate and that Hephaestion had not told him what was the true cause of the injury was troubling. In the past Hephaestion would have always told him the truth. Alexander immediately gave his head a slight shake. Whatever it was that Hephaestion was hiding must be slight and of no consequence, likely something as simple as cutting his hand with his own knife, otherwise he would not hide it.

Leaning back, Hephaestion fumbled with the roughly tied knot on the back of his hand. There was no mistaking the contented smile tilting the corners of his lips. "We have the day to ourselves. Was there any activity in particular you had in mind?"

"We could do a great many things," Alexander grinned, snatching up a sliced quarter of an apple. He took a large bite, wiping away the dribbling juice from his chin with the heel of his palm. "I am fairly certain both Bucephalas and Xanthus could use a good gallop. It is too late to organize a true hunting trip, but that does not mean we could not go on our own. There is always the market or we could take a small boat out upon the river. Or, if we are feeling truly hedonistic, we can while away the day in the garden reading to each other from the _Iliad_."

To Alexander, each option was a worthy one that he would gladly spend the day doing. It was unfortunate that they did not have more time, but Alexander knew that he would soon become bored with the lack of structure or things to accomplish. Even with Hephaestion by his side he would ever be looking towards the horizon. Always to the horizon and to the encircling ocean that surrounded all. One day he would stand upon its shores and discover if there was anything that lay beyond. He would go further than either Heracles or Dionysus and be worthy to stand alongside his revered ancestor Achilles in the Elysian Fields.

He would not slip into obscurity and be forgotten.

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The entire Vanguard was sluggish that day, most of them not rousing from their beds until the sun was well up. The rest of the city was a hive of activity, though, that morning no different from any other. Ambassadors were petitioning the king, cooks were bustling away to prepare enough food for the palace and the barracks, the markets were overflowing with merchants and shoppers and wares from all over the Mediterranean, and soldiers from other regiments were practicing maneuvers. It was the same as any other day in Pella, but for he and Alexander it was a rare opportunity for them to have the day together.

It was something they had decided to take advantage of and before their friends had even contemplated rolling from their bed he and Alexander were already away from the city and did not have plans to return before nightfall. The preparations for the Persian campaign were becoming more intense with each day that passed and soon Hephaestion did not know when he and Alexander would have such a carefree time again.

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Scratching at his stubbled jaw, Perdiccas staggered back towards his room. He had been awake for barely half an hour, but would have gladly tumbled back into his bed for the remainder of the morning. The sky had been lightening when he and Cleonystra had finally left the hall and in the time since had slept very little. So as not to once again find himself in Cleonystra's bad graces, Perdiccas had woken her only long enough to kiss her farewell before sneaking away quietly.

Seleucus was no doubt squirreled away with his latest girl and Perdiccas had fond hopes of sleeping a few more hours before Seleucus returned and began snoring. He doubted very much that Hephaestion would be away from Alexander's side all day so his presence in the room was not even something to be considered.

Perdiccas had a hand lifted to cover a yawn as he pushed open the door. Already his eyelids were beginning to droop and he had no intentions of even removing his sandals before collapsing on his bed. His desires were put on hold momentarily as he found himself slammed onto his back with a knife in his shoulder. Before he could even comprehend what had happened, his attacker was gone and Perdiccas was struggling against the darkness was the creeping in on him.

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"Alexander! Hephaestion!"

Jumping down from his horse, Cleitus hurried down the bank to where the pair was enjoying a quiet lunch. The boys were on their feet before he was even halfway down, knives in their hands. Cleitus waved his hand absently, indicating for them to put the weapons away.

"Gather your gear and get your horses," Cleitus instructed once he was down the hill. "You are both needed back at the barracks. No questions. Now."

Hephaestion looked about to protest, but Alexander tugging on his arms stopped him. In only minutes their meal was packed away and they were bringing their horses up the incline to where Cleitus and a detachment of the Royal Guard were waiting. After this latest event, Philip had wanted to ensure that both Alexander and Hephaestion were well guarded until they were back within the palace walls.

"What happened?" Alexander demanded as he mounted Bucephalas.

"There was a second attack meant for Hephaestion," Cleitus answered simply, digging his heels into his horse's flanks, wheeling back towards Pella.

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Alexander was off his horse before Bucephalas had even stopped his forward momentum. He did not need to look to know that Hephaestion was following on his heels as they hurried towards the barrack dorms.

"By Zeus!" Ptolemy sighed as they neared the door to the room Hephaestion shared with Perdiccas and Seleucus. "After what happened to Perdiccas we feared the worst."

"How is he?" Alexander demanded, stopping next to Ptolemy. Hephaestion shoved past him, hurrying into the room. "Is it serious?"

Ptolemy shook his head immediately. "The physician has seen to him and says that he should be fine in a few days. The knife stopped at the bone and aside from a bump to the back of his head he escaped the encounter relatively unscathed."

"Did they apprehend the man?"

"Your father has him under guard," Ptolemy confirmed. "He wanted to be sure of all the circumstances before he questioned the boy."

"Boy?" Alexander demanded, startled by the revelation.

"One of the pages, to be exact."

By then they had reached the entrance of the room where Perdiccas, Hephaestion, Seleucus, Leonnatus, and the rest were all crowded, all talking over one another. Alexander was relieved to see Perdiccas sitting up and speaking with the rest. The left shoulder of his chiton had been let down, the joint bandaged and the limb itself strapped to his side.

"Quit apologizing, Phaesté," Perdiccas grumbled, shifting uncomfortably on his bed. "I have told you already that you had nothing to do with this. You were not the one with the knife."

"But I am the one who brought this down on you. That you were not struck down last week was pure chance," Hephaestion insisted as he stalked restlessly about the room. He paused when he reached the end, turning to face Alexander. "I am going across with the next advance force at the end of the month. If it means renouncing my captainship, I will, but I will not allow those around me to be accidental targets."

Alexander shook his head slowly. "Hephaestion, no."

"There is nothing else to be done for it," Hephaestion shrugged helplessly. "She will not stop, Alexander. You know it just as well as I do."

"That will be giving her what she wants," Cleitus spoke up.

"But it will keep others from getting caught up in all this," Hephaestion said quietly, leaning back against the wall. "It will all stop."

"We do not even know for certain if she is the one responsible for all this," Leonnatus reminded them. "The boy might have been acting on his own."

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"I had no choice," the boy cried out, tears clogging his voice.

Philip stood before the young page, arms crossed over his chest. "Every man has a choice. Every man can say no. To be a man, though, he has to be willing to live with the consequences of his choices."

Straightening as best as he was able, Lyander chewed nervously on his already torn bottom lip. "I-I am."

"You do not look entirely convincing," Philip mused, taking a step closer to the restrained figure huddled against the opposite wall.

"I made the choice that I had to. For my family. And even though I will be dead, they will now be safe," Lyander said quietly, resigned to his fate.

"You are brave, boy, I will grant you that," Philip conceded. "Give me the answers I require and your end will be a swift one."

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Hephaestion took the cup of wine that was offered to him, nodding briefly at the serving girl. He watched as Alexander paced restlessly about the room, waving away the wine that was offered to him. Alexander had not taken the news from his father well, demanding that he should be allowed to go to Pydna and confront his mother.

"What good will it do, Alexander, you cannot kill her," Hephaestion said as he raised the cup to his lips.

Alexander whirled about to face him. "There is nothing stopping me. That woman is not my mother. She is some vile sorceress and I share no blood bond to her."

"Hold your tongue, boy," Philip grumbled, setting his cup aside, "before you anger the gods."

"Besides which, going to her will only give her exactly what she wants. You." Hephaestion spoke the words quietly, but held Alexander's stormy eyes as he spoke. "Better to just let her stew in her prison. There will be nothing more she can do once we are in Asia. That is only a few months more. Less if I go with one of the advance forces."

Philip motioned towards Hephaestion wit his wine cup. "You would do well to listen to him." The king took another drink before continuing, this time directing his words at Hephaestion. "Though you will not be going with an advance force. I want the Vanguard as a whole to come over with the main army."

When Hephaestion opened his mouth to protest, one look from Philip was enough to silence him. Those dark brows drawing together and the firm line of his lips were enough to quiet his words. He covered his unease by taking a deep drink from his cup.

"There is nothing more that can be done," Philip sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "She is on her way to Pydna under heavy guard and will be allowed no visitors when she arrives, minimal contact with the servants. There may be more that can be done once Cleopatra is married to Alexandros, but for the moment my hands are tied. As for Hephaestion, he is a captain now and will have quarters of his own so that unfortunate incidents like the one this afternoon will not happen again. All that remains is to sniff out any more of her spies."

It was simple enough to speak the words, and in plan they were quite sound. It was enacting them that made Hephaestion uneasy because of their simplicity more than anything. Hephaestion had learned long ago that words were useless. A fine speech would not save anyone.

"Her list of allies is running short if she entrusted such a task to the boy," Philip said as Alexander continued to stalk about like a restless lion. "A boy with no knowledge of his quarry if he had expected to find Hephaestion in his own bed on such a morning. I would be amazed if half the Vanguard found their own beds that night."

"Did he say how long he had been waiting, sire?" Hephaestion asked.

"Sunrise, or thereabout. Enough time for the lad to work himself into quite a fright by the time Perdiccas stumbled across him."

A short time later, dismissed by the king, Hephaestion once again found himself in Alexander's rooms. He had meant to sleep in his own bed that night, but Alexander would hear nothing of it. When Hephaestion had begun to make his protests, Alexander had merely placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. With his other hand, he had wound his fingers through Hephaestion's and away from the stairwell. Though there was a part of him that had wanted to resist, he could not. Asleep in Alexander's arms he rested far more soundly than he did alone.

"Even if my father had permitted it, I would have found some way to prevent you from going on ahead of me," Alexander whispered as they lay facing each other on the wide bed. He lifted a hand to tangle in Hephaestion's hair. "We will cross together, Hephaestion. It is the way things are meant to be."

"How can you be so sure of that?" Hephaestion murmured, furrowing his brows.

"Because it cannot be any other way."


	8. Part VIII

**Part VIII**

Even two weeks in, Hephaestion still found it strange that he was no longer sharing quarters with someone else. Hephaestion could not think of a time when he had not slept in a room that was only his. He had been a boy when he left Athens and until then had slept in the same room as his sisters, and since then he had been living in dorms. And while it was a relief to no longer put up with Seleucus' endless snoring, at times the silence was incredibly disconcerting. There were many nights that Hephaestion found himself lying awake for what seemed like hours, waiting for the silence to no longer feel so strange.

There was a rational part of Hephaestion's mind that knew he should be more cautious after the two attempts on his life in the span of little more than a week. That was not to say that he did not secure his door every night before bed or that he did not sleep with a knife within easy reach because he most certainly did both. What he would not do was be coddled. So there was no guard dogging his steps and he did not carry any more arms than he had in the past.

"Happy as I am for your promotion, could you not have found a way for your old bed to remain empty?" Perdiccas grumbled as he brought his horse alongside Hephaestion's. "Lymadon makes more noise than Seleucus when he sleeps. I swear by all the gods that I had not thought such a thing was even possible."

Chuckling, Hephaestion lightly patted Xanthus' wide neck. "Then perhaps you are simply too delicate a sleeper. When you are sober, in any case. Drunk, an elephant could tromp through the room and you would not notice."

"I was awake that night," Perdiccas said immediately. "I simply chose not to react because there was no need to."

"As you say."

"Laugh all you want, pretty boy. We have all seen how you behave when in your cups," Perdiccas laughed, waggling his eyebrows.

Even pursing his lips Hephaestion could not prevent the corners of his lips from twitching. Fighting the grin, Hephaestion kept his eyes trained on the latest group of horsemen charging abreast across the practice field, spears aimed at an invisible enemy. One of the horses, Timander's, stumbled briefly, destroying the line's precision for a moment. To his credit, Timander did not drop his spear and was able to correct his mount and reform the line.

"I do believe it is your turn," Hephaestion said, nodding towards the start line where members of Perdiccas' column were gathering. When the other man started to ride off, he shouted after him, "Try not to fall off!"

The gesture he received in response only made Hephaestion laugh all the harder. He was on his own for only a few minutes before Seleucus and Peucestas joined him. Though it had never been said aloud, Hephaestion knew that he was being kept under watch, guarded against any further attempt on his life. It rankled Hephaestion somewhat to be constantly under surveillance, even if those watching him were his friends. Every time that he would bring it up with Alexander, though, the other man would deny it. Or, when his words were picked apart, denied giving a direct order that he was to be guarded. That Alexander had strongly hinted at it Hephaestion was certain.

It was impossible to prevent Alexander from doing such things when he had his mind set. Alexander had always kept safe those things that were dear to him; even that wretched mongrel that had adopted Alexander as his owner when he was a boy. When Lysimachus and Leonidas both had tried to part Alexander from the dog, he had not given in. The dog had likewise been utterly loyal to Alexander until it had died years later having run afoul of a boar while hunting.

Hephaestion could not help but look towards the opposite side of the practice field where Alexander stood, the king and Cleitus with him, sharing attention between the cavalry and the papyrus sheet Philip held. Philip and Alexander had their heads bent together, and though it was difficult to see the blood tie in their faces, in posture, father and son mirrored each other well. For all of the similarities in their stances, there were differences; the restless shifting of Philip's shoulders, the tilt of Alexander's neck and head. Through Philip, Alexander was descended from Heracles, a proud bloodline to be sure. Combined with a linage that stretched back to Achilles, Alexander was bread for greatness.

As though feeling the eyes on him, Alexander lifted his head and looked directly towards Hephaestion. His smile was immediate. So, too, was Hephaestion's.

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It was only a small snatch of script, little more than a few sentences, but it would have to do. Several had already died in order to obtain that small scrap of papyrus and its importance could not be overlooked. When the time came, it would prove an invaluable tool to undermine the Macedonian monarchy. Equally impressive, and more easily obtained, were copies of the plans for the wedding of Philip's daughter to his brother-in-law. Combined, the two documents would help to topple Philip and his unmanageable line.

Stylus in hand, he began to copy the form of the letters from the fragmented document. With practice he would soon be able to imitate the hand that wrote it. That, in the end, was the goal.

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Though he had yet to say anything of it to Hephaestion, Alexander was fairly certain that he had figured out the source of the cut to Hephaestion's left palm. When he had gone to offer up his daily absolutions to the gods the day after the second attempt on Hephaestion's life he had seen the dried blood on the statue of Nemesis. Blood that Alexander had not dripped onto the carved figure. He had decided that since Hephaestion had not spoken of it, neither would he. If Hephaestion wanted to talk about it, he would. That was simply the way Hephaestion was; it was impossible to force him into anything.

Alexander was also just as aware of why his father was keeping him so utterly busy. The busier he was, the less time he had for his mind to linger over the things his mother had done. However, Alexander found that he did not mind the subterfuge because it did exactly what his father meant for it to. It also had the added side effect that his father was given him far more responsibilities than he had in the past. He had been regent at sixteen, true enough, but the battles he had fought at sixteen were hardly comparable to participating in the planning of a campaign on the same scope of the Trojan War. He was the Achilles to his father's Agamemnon. He could only hope that the goodwill that existed between him and his father did not falter in the oncoming months.

"Would it be possible for me to take a small detachment and land at Troy?" Alexander asked as he stared down at a map of the areas around the Hellespont. "If I follow this route here, it would be easy for me to join up with the army's advance to meet Parmenion's forces."

Philip grinned broadly, scratching at the corner of his bearded jaw. "I was wondering when that would come up."

Despite himself, Alexander felt his cheeks flush slightly. "The Greeks won the Trojan War so it can only benefit the new invading Greeks to placate the ghosts of Troy before continuing onwards."

"And I am to assume that Priam's tomb is the only one you will seek out?"

"I will not deny that I have long desired to see Achilles' final resting place," Alexander admitted, lightly brushing the tip of his finger over the citadel that marked Troy's place on the map. "He was the greatest of the Greek warriors during that campaign so it could only be to our benefit to do him honour on the outset of such a crusade."

Philip was silent for a time, leaning forward with an elbow resting on the table, chin held in the hand of that same arm. In his other hand he idly twirled a cup of wine. "You are certainly being a great deal more rational about this than I would have expected. It would indeed be fit to pay homage to your bloodline. Though the source may have been slightly tainted, you are born from greatness on both sides. Better then that it is you to make the pilgrimage to Troy on behalf of this new Greek army rather than myself. Achilles may be more inclined to listen to you than me."

Alexander could not be certain whether his father was simply appeasing him or not, but he was grateful for the chance to see the tomb of his long-fallen hero. It was also the site of Patroclus' tomb. For almost as long as he had known Hephaestion, Alexander had longed to stand on the plains of Troy with his beloved friend. His very own Patroclus.

"If you will excuse me now, I promised Eurydike that I would visit her and the babe tonight," Philip said, setting his drink aside and heaving himself out of his chair.

A slight grin playing at his lips, Alexander leaned back in his chair. "Is it true that when I was born that the first thing you did was check if I was truly male?"

Immediately, Philip let out a loud laugh, lowering himself back into his seat. "Where did you hear that from?"

"General Amyntor told Hephaestion about it. Is it true?"

Philip's mouth twisted as he tried desperately to quell his smile. "You were a very pretty babe. Too pretty." He paused then, his smile becoming a fond one. "It was already quite obvious that something was not quite right with Arrhidaeus which made you my most likely heir. Provided you were, indeed, male. And you were; masculine and strong. By the gods, you gripped my finger with all the strength of a young lion.... I only hope that you will someday you will know that same joy."

"Father...." Alexander groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I have no desire to take a wife. Nor do I have a need. Should Eurydike's second child turn out to be male he could be my heir. He would be your son so our bloodline would still be continued should I not have a son of my own."

"I wish that you would reconsider. Taking a wife does not mean things must cease between you and Hephaestion. A wife is a necessity. Do you honestly think that I have loved all of my wives?" Philip snickered as he refilled his cup. "But better a wife I can get an heir on than a battle that could cost the lives of my men. You should keep such things in mind."

Alexander nodded his head, chewing lightly on his bottom lip. Much as he loathed it, he knew the truth to his father's words. One day he would need to take a wife if for no other reason than to secure and alliance, just as his father had. Through it all, though, Alexander knew that he would do his utmost to remain constant to Hephaestion. Hephaestion was his constant.

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"Remind me again whose brilliant idea this was?" Seleucus groaned as he lay panting on the side of the hill.

Peucestas slumped down next to him. "Yours."

"It was?"

"It was," Perdiccas grunted from his other side. "You wanted to see which of us could go the longest. You lost."

"I tripped," Seleucus protested, making no move to rise.

Peucestas chuckled at that. "You are still on the ground."

"So are you." Seleucus lifted his head off the ground so that he could glance about. "Anyone not on the ground?"

"Me!" Leonnatus shouted from a short distance away.

"And me!" Hephaestion called a moment later.

"Will one of you hurry up and concede so that we can finish this," Peucestas grumbled, lobbing a clod of earth at the pair sprinting up and down the hill in full gear. "It will be time for the evening meal soon enough."

"We could just leave them and go ourselves," Perdiccas spoke up, raising himself up on his elbows. "Eventually they will get bored with it and follow."

The other two lifted themselves up on their elbows and towards the bottom of the hill where Hephaestion and Leonnatus were turning to ascend once again. It was quite obvious that both men were tiring, but neither looked ready to admit defeat. Seleucus was fairly certain that they would be crawling up before the end.

"I vote that we go," Seleucus said quickly, heaving himself to his feet. He wobbled only slightly then began the ungainly walk down the hill. Behind him, he could hear Peucestas helping Perdiccas up and following after him. Seleucus waited for the two at the bottom of the hill then, as a trio, made their way back towards the barracks.

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Panting and gasping for breath, Hephaestion sat about halfway up the hill with his forearms supported on his bent knees. Leonnatus was next to him, equally out of breath, but lying on his back. They had managed another two circuits on the hill after the others had left before deciding on a draw.

"I do not think that I will be able to move ever again," Leonnatus moaned, draping an arm over his eyes. "And if you even attempt to jump up spry as anything I will throttle you."

"That would require you moving again at some point," Hephaestion chuckled as he stretched out on his back beside Leonnatus. "Or should I just let Lysimache know that this is where you will be taking up residence?"

"Cunt," Leonnatus grunted, flailing an arm in Hephaestion's general direction. He cursed under his breath when his knuckles bounced off the hilt of Hephaestion's sword. "Have I mentioned yet that I am insanely jealous that you have your own quarters? It is not as though you need one. If you want privacy all you have to do is bed down with Alexander for the night. The rest of us risk life and limb climbing in and out of windows."

"And you enjoy every minute of it."

"That has nothing to do with it," Leonnatus countered, his grin belying his words.

"Do I want to know why you two are lying sprawled out like this?"

Tilting his head back as far as he could, Hephaestion strained his gaze towards Alexander. He grinned when he saw his beloved, but at the moment had no energy to do anything further. As Alexander came down the hill to join them, Hephaestion shifted about to get comfortable once again. The thick layers of his linothorax were not meant to be worn lying down, the top of it pressing against his throat every time he slid down.

"I am off to get some food before the others eat it all," Leonnatus grunted as he heaved himself off the ground.

Alexander lowered himself down on the ground, stretching out alongside Hephaestion. "Are you going to get up yourself any time soon?"

"Soon enough. This is quite comfortable," Hephaestion said, tilting his neck so that he could see Alexander. He narrowed his eyes when he caught sight of the deep groove between Alexander's heavy brows. "Did the meeting with your father not go well?"

Alexander's eyes immediately brightened. "You and I are to land at Troy. My father has given me permission to land with a detachment at Troy and make the necessary sacrifices to Achilles, Priam, and the rest. We will see it, Phae. Troy. We will walk in the footsteps of Achilles and Patroclus."

Dropping his head back onto the ground, Hephaestion stared up at the sky. For the first time it truly began to feel real. Soon he would be in Asia, fighting against a vast enemy to avenge the wrongs they had done Greece. They would be following the valour and courage of the not-so distant past. Men like Leonidas and his Spartans who had stood their ground at Thermopylae. And like those who had stood up against Troy to regain the honour of their land.

"Do you think we are worthy of them?" Hephaestion asked, glancing back towards Alexander. "We are boys who have barely even cut our teeth in battle. Not like them."

"If anyone is, it is you," Alexander answered immediately. "You are like toughened steel, finely honed into a sharp blade. You are a warrior, Hephaestion, and more than worthy of standing alongside Patroclus. We will both stand alongside them."

Even though he could only see half of Alexander's face, it was all that he needed to see. He was positively glowing. Whenever the Asian expedition was brought up, Alexander came alive. His dream for as long as Hephaestion had known him was to travel further than any Greek had before and now that time was nearly upon them. Everything that they had been training for would soon have a purpose.

"Only a few months more and our journey will begin."

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It had been a well known fact for well over a year that the Macedonian tyrant meant to invade Persia after marrying one of his daughters off to her maternal uncle. There were many who would have been content with waiting for Philip to reach the Asiatic coast before ousting him from power, but that had the unfortunate effect of leaving the boy alive and thriving with an entire army at his call. An accidental death on Persian soil would not be difficult to be made believable. The problem came with attempting to organize such an endeavor when the particulars of the large army under Philip's command were impossible to know. There were already those in place who could remove Philip while in Persia, but not his son. The ones that Alexander surrounded himself with were still young enough to be foolishly loyal to a boy who had not wholly proved himself. Most vexing was his Athenian companion who had survived not only the Illyrian mines, but knives of more than one assassin.

It would be far easier to remove them both at Aegae. The space was confined and there would be more than ample opportunity to strike during the wedding festivities.

"Sir, a message from General Attalus," his secretary announced, holding out a slightly battered, but still intact scroll.

Demosthenes' smile brightened and he held out a hand to accept the letter.

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By the time they arrived back at the mess hall, all that was left of the evening meal was scraps so rather than picking through the remains, Alexander and Hephaestion went into the kitchen to get something to eat before returning to Hephaestion's room. The furnishings were simple and functional in style, but there were times that Alexander preferred that to the opulence of his own rooms. There was very little difference between Hephaestion's new room and the quarters he had shared with Perdiccas and Seleucus except that now he had more room to spread out. And while the floor itself was not entirely too comfortable, with several blankets under them and Hephaestion's arms and legs holding him tight, Alexander was utterly content.


	9. Part IX

**Part IX**

From the very start Demosthenes had known that he would not be among those notables invited to the wedding in the Macedonian capital of Aegae. It would have been an insult of the tyrant had thought to request his presence at the wedding of one of those young brutes he had spawned. Had he been included on the guest list, though, he would have been able to write a wondrous letter of refusal that, while perfectly civil and diplomatic on the surface, would have been loaded full of insults aimed towards Philip and his progeny. At the moment Demosthenes was not certain which course he would have preferred, but certainly not having to respond to unwanted wedding invitations would free up his time for other matters.

According to the latest dispatches he had received from the north Queen Olympias was to be kept under strict guard until a permanent solution to her interfering presence was decided upon. It was just as well that he had received from her most of the truly relevant information of the coming events that she would have been able to supply now that she resided so far from Pella. The woman had certainly been useful during their brief alliance and he knew that without her aid so much of what was about to come would not have been possible.

The letter he had received from Attalus the day before would ensure that there would be no interference from the Macedonian army already in Asia Minor.

_From General Attalus to Demosthenes of Athens, greetings. I have given consideration to your proposal and have decided that what you present is quite intriguing. While I cannot commit my men to such an endeavour, I will not hinder any actions on your part._

On all fronts, the different elements were falling into place. Even his enemies would not accuse Demosthenes of being a naïve man so he was not foolish enough to believe that their plans would go entirely as they were meant to. Some deviations would be necessary, but that did not worry him. Those that were involved were all wise enough to develop suitable alternatives.

All that remained was a few details that required finalization and then they would only wait until the wedding celebrations in Aegae.

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For the past two days, Hephaestion had put off opening the letter that had come for him from Athens. This was the first letter he had received from his father since writing to him of the reappearance of the Illyrian mercenaries. Hephaestion had asked the king to allow him to be the one to tell his father and his request had been granted. The attack was something Hephaestion knew his father to have feared and would no doubt be clamouring for his return to Athens.

He could not put it off inevitably, though, so after another day of pushing it aside, Hephaestion broke the seal and unrolled the letter.

_My dear son, greetings from your father. I am relieved to hear that you are well and to see the evidence of it written in your own hand. Philip as well has assured me that you received no more than the most minor of injuries before dispatching of the two men yourself. You have become a true testament to our line and am certain that you will only bring greater glory to our family in the oncoming Persian invasion. Already you are a captain, a commission I myself did not hold till I was several years your senior. Having achieved so much already you will likely merit generalship before the end of this campaign. _

_The father in me would be much relieved if you would return to Athens where I can be more certain of your safety. However, like you, I am a soldier and know that danger is a daily foe. Therefore I will ask only that you guard yourself as much as you are able to best assure that there will come a time when we can once again meet face to face._

The letter went on for quite a while, Amyntor taking the time to relay other family information including the birth of his youngest sister's first son. In his not so subtle way his father was hinting that it was time for him to take a wife of his own and continue their bloodline. It was a prodding that Alexander had faced from his own father with increasing frequency over the past few years. And, like Alexander, Hephaestion had no desire to take a wife as of yet. His current focus was on his military career. Unlike Alexander, Hephaestion would not be required to marry for political reasons. At least not at this point. Alexander had once absently mentioned that he wanted them to marry sisters. Alexander wanted their children to be cousins and to be able to call Hephaestion's sons his nephews. It was an utterly romantic notion of Alexander's that Hephaestion did not ever envision coming to pass. His breeding was hardly on par with Alexander's and even if he was eventually promoted to general Hephaestion could not fathom that such a situation would arise.

"You look troubled?"

Hephaestion glanced up from the letter, not even having realized that Alexander had entered his quarters. "I thought you were meeting with your father."

"A deft attempt at avoidance," Alexander chuckled, stretching himself out behind Hephaestion on the narrow bed. "What has you so troubled?"

"My father is hinting at marriage," Hephaestion sighed, setting the letter down on the short table next to his bed. "He is being a trifle more subtle than yours as he has not come out and said it."

Alexander pressed a kiss to Hephaestion's shoulder before resting his chin on the joint. "It was always inevitable. You are an only son, though, so the situation is different for you. If it would ease your father's mind—"

"Do not start with that," Hephaestion groaned as he turned his head enough to see Alexander's face. "Can you imagine what would happen the first time I had a nightmare? I broke your nose once before and you have the instincts of a soldier. I could very well smash her skull in."

"You do not even have a bride and already you are blaming yourself for her death," Alexander snorted. He flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "The only reason that you broke my nose was because I was reaching over you when your head came up. That was my own stupidity."

Rolling onto his stomach, Hephaestion sought out Alexander's eyes once again. "Still, there should not be the worry. This is my problem and should not involve others. It is bad enough that you are at risk when we share a bed."

Alexander stared up at Hephaestion as though he had suddenly sprouted a second head. Reaching a hand up, he pressed a palm to his cheek, holding Hephaestion's face as he attempted to glance away. "I am never at risk from you. Get that thought from your head right this instant because it is utter madness."

"Alexander—" Hephaestion began, but quickly lost track of his words at Alexander's intense look.

"You asked me once if I saw you as something broken, something damaged beyond all repair," Alexander spoke softly, bringing his other hand up so that he held Hephaestion's face between both palms. "I could not give you an answer then, but I know now that you have been pieced back together, stronger than I could have ever imagined. It is something that all can see. It is a greatness that now exists in you and I have no doubt that it will be passed down to any sons you father."

Hephaestion tilted his head slightly to the side, a faint smile curving his lips. "If I did not know better, I would think that you were siding with my father."

"I simply do not want you to think so lowly of your own worth," Alexander countered, lifting his head so that he could press his lips to the corner of Hephaestion's mouth. "Now enough with these morbid thoughts. I have come to invite you to a private dinner and I will not have a melancholy guest."

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Philip tossed the letter onto his desk and scrubbed his hands over his face. It was done. Olympias was locked away at Pydna with no access to the outside world. She was to have minimal contact with the servants and would not be allowed to send correspondence out. What letter she did receive would be read and approved before she was allowed to receive them. Copies of those letters would also be sent to Philip himself so that he could keep track of his wife's activities.

In a month and a half, after Cleopatra's wedding, Philip knew that he would be under increased pressure to have Olympias killed before he set out for Persia. She would only be a threat, and with his daughter an Epriot queen, Olympias' role would be obsolete. She could be brought to justice for all of her crimes; something he knew would ease Alexander greatly. It would greatly ease his mind as well for all that he feared the consequences. Olympias had a relationship with the gods that he could not even begin to understand and worried that she would entice them to seek vengeance against him on her behalf. Though he had not acknowledged it in the past, Philip was fully aware of her activities in the women's quarters in the palace.

And now another son, Caranus. Eurydike had given birth only a few days before to a healthy little boy. The boy had stared up at him with wide blue eyes as he squirmed about in Eurydike's arms. The poor girl had been utterly exhausted, but proud of having delivered a son. Like Europa before him, Caranus was dark in colouring, the smattering of hair atop his head nearly black. He was a strong infant, too, like Alexander had been, and would make a good heir for his elder son should the lad keep it in his head that he would not take a wife.

"What will you do about Attalus?" Cleitus inquired as he sipped on his wine. "You know what he will be like when he learns of the babe. He will be after the regency."

"Good thing he is in Ionia then, is it not?" Philip chuckled wryly. "Antipater is the one who will be staying behind in Macedon. Caranus' birth will not change anything. Dispatches have already been sent to tell him as much. Attalus will not approve, but the choice is not his. So long as I am alive, Alexander will be groomed as my intended heir."

"Then you had best keep the two of them apart. Now that Eurydike has given you a son he will become more relentless in his campaign to discredit Alexander," Antipater spoke up from the far side of the room where he was lounging on a padded couch.

Philip nodded his head as he exhaled loudly. "Something will have to be done about him; unfortunately I do not know what that is. Time enough for it, though. I have no intentions of dying any time soon."

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Her little son was only a few days old, but was already quite solemn. Caranus would stare at everything around him with wide blue eyes, crying only when he was in need of food or cleaning. Eurydike could not help but think that he was a beautiful child, the image of what her dear Philip had looked when he was young. Europa would be hers to raise and nurture, but she knew full well that things would be different for Caranus. Her sweet little boy would not be so lucky. She would have only a few short years before forces that she would be unable to prevent would tear him from her. Before he was even born, her uncle had sent her countless letters detailing the greatness that the child was destined for. Now that the child was born she knew that her uncle's meddling would only become worse.

"I have come to give my regards to my new little brother."

Startled, Eurydike spun about, her hand flying to her chest. "Alexander!"

Older than her by more than three years, Alexander still looked quite contrite at having caught her unawares, his cheeks rosier than she recalled from past visits. "Sorry, my lady. I thought I made enough noise."

"You very well may have only I cannot stop looking at him," she sighed, her gaze once again returning fondly to her son. "I think he has a look of Philip about him."

Alexander laughed quietly as he came to stand alongside her. "The poor child. To look like a grizzled old bear so soon."

"That is your father you speak of," Eurydike chastised him, glaring mockingly in his direction as she reached into the bassinet to lift up Caranus. The babe gave out an outraged squawk at being removed from his comfortable bedding, but relaxed instantly against his mother's breast. Crossing to where Alexander stood, she nodded towards the infant in her arms. "Would you like to hold him?"

"But, I do not—" Alexander stammered even as he held his arms out to accept the small bundle. He looked utterly perplexed when there was some weight to the infant and quickly gathered him in close.

Laughing quietly, Eurydike reached up to adjust the blankets wrapped around her son. "All men make that same mistake. There is more substance to a babe than a mere whiff of smoke. It is something you will learn when you have a son of your own."

To that Alexander said nothing, but it was of no real surprise to her. Like the rest of the palace, and perhaps much of Greece herself, she was aware of Alexander's disinclination towards marriage. Being in the palace, however, gave her insight that the rest of Greece did not have: Alexander had yet to develop a taste for the female form. He was utterly devoted to Hephaestion, and Hephaestion to him. And though the relationship would not grant Philip the dynasty he so craved, theirs was an enviable partnership.

"It is good that you have had a son," Alexander said quietly to her, his eyes watching Caranus' sleeping face. "It is entirely possible that both my father and I might not return from Persia so it will be a relief to him that a male of our line remains safely behind in Macedon."

Eurydike smiled fondly at Philip's boy as she once again took possession of her newborn son. "You and Caranus have similar eyes. They are the same shape."

Sharing her smile, Alexander lightly ran the tips of his fingers over Caranus' forehead. "Be well, little brother. Health to you, Eurydike."

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"Have you been to see the new babe yet?" Hephaestion asked as they sat down to dinner together.

Alexander nodded briefly, idly toying with one of the legs of chicken before him. "I had not realized that infants were so wrinkled looking. Eurydike says that the shape of our eyes are the same, but I cannot tell his features enough to see it. He is a hearty little thing, though, and will grow strong if given enough time."

"That is good then, is it not? With Caranus about your father will not worry so much about you fathering a son of your own," Hephaestion pointed out, tearing off a hunk of bread from the loaf in the center of the platter.

"From what I understand, Caranus will be safeguarded here in Macedon while we are off in Persia. It will be one less worry for us to be bothered with while we are defeating the barbarians."

Alexander's smile was broad, but Hephaestion could tell instantly that it was hiding something. As easy as it would have been to press Alexander about his troubles, Hephaestion kept silent for the time being. He was not certain what the source was, and any guesses on his part could incidentally make the situation weigh more heavily on his mind. It was something that Hephaestion had discovered long ago when he had pressed Alexander to the breaking point about a letter received at Mieza from his mother.

"Has there been any word on the day the king tends to depart for Asia?" Hephaestion asked, astutely changing the subject.

"According to my father's priests the omens say that we should cross the Hellespont on the first new moon after the wedding. It will, after all, be the beginning of a new era."

Alexander's responses continued to be of the same vein throughout the rest of the meal. Try as he might, Hephaestion could not coax Alexander into relaxing enough to give a heartfelt response. Nearly everything that Alexander said was scripted as though he were reading lines from a play. Worse still, those lines seemed to be those of a minor playwright, not even the dialogues of Euripides. By the time they retired to the balcony, Hephaestion was nearly at his wits end.

"Enough of this, Alexander!" Hephaestion cried, utterly exasperated as his love stared forlornly at the courtyard below. "What on earth is going on in that head of yours? If you have no intention of speaking of it to me, tell me now so that I may return to my quarters."

Utterly taken aback, Alexander stared at him with wide eyes from the opposite side of the couch. "Phae?"

"I do not mean to press, but I can see the clouds gathering around you with the darkness of a stormcloud," Hephaestion sighed as he reached over to twist his fingers through Alexander's hair.

His entire body shuddering with the force of a suppressed sigh, Alexander leaned into his touch. "It is official now; my mother is imprisoned at the behest of my father, but I can find no ounce of sympathy for her. None at all, though I know that I should not forsake her. She is the one that birthed me into this life… but I feel nothing for her. I fear what retribution the fates have in store for me."

Drawing Alexander into his arms, Hephaestion leaned back so that they both lay reclined against plush cushions. "Nothing that befalls her will bear any mark upon you. That tally will be carried by another."

"Gods, Phaestion, what have you done?" Alexander groaned, turning his face into Hephaestion's chest. "Is that the reason for the blood upon the statue?"

"I had hoped that you would not be the one to clear that away," Hephaestion sighed. "I could not risk the Furies tracking you throughout all of this world and the next. Better for them to strike me down for I am not born for the same greatness you were. In the end, I will be but a minor player because who can give anything but a second thought to those standing in the shadows of greatness."

Leaning up so that his lips brushed against the underside of Hephaestion's jaw, Alexander spoke softly, "Even if you are relegated to the background there will be none who could ignore your individual greatness. It will shine through any cracks that will be cast upon your image."


	10. Part X

**Part X**

Already he had searched every place that seemed logical and even those that did not. No matter where he searched, though, Hephaestion could not find the ring that had been left to him by his maternal grandfather. He had not paid much attention to its location when he had moved to his new quarters, but with the upcoming festivities in Aegae he wanted to look his best. He was a captain and a member of the prince's Companions; he could not look like a mere vagabond. The ring was a small thing, but it had been in his family for several generations; since Greece's defeat of Xerxes if the family legend was true. He had first heard of King Leonidas and Thermopylae and the Spartan three hundred from his grandfather. Leonidas had been his first hero until a few years later when he had learned of Achilles and Patroclus and Hector. And while the Iliad would come to dominate his passions he could never completely forget about his childhood heroes.

"Cerberus' slobbering maw… where in the name of all the gods is that cursed ring?" Hephaestion grumbled as he searched the deep recesses of his chest for the third time.

"So this is the sight that has Alexander so besotted."

Without even pausing in his search, Hephaestion lobbed a sandal over his shoulder in Perdiccas' direction. There was a quick shuffle of feet followed by laughter which meant his aim had not been far off.

"Your aim is excellent as always, madman," Perdiccas chuckled. "Have you misplaced some lover's trinket?"

Hephaestion snorted, rising to his feet and turning about. "Hardly. A family heirloom. I had just assumed that it was still here when I moved rooms only I cannot think of where else I might have left it."

"Seleucus and I can check our trunks," Perdiccas said with an absent wave of his hand. "For now, though, it is time to eat. The others sent me to fetch you before you had a chance to forget."

Even as he followed Perdiccas from the room, Hephaestion rolled his eyes. "I only forgot the one time and that can hardly be counted against me."

"A hangover is hardly a reason to forget to eat."

"I was ill, not hungover," Hephaestion insisted, smirking in the other man's direction. "I can only imagine how much you and Seleucus will glut yourselves at the wedding games next week. The pair of you will be hungover for a month."

Perdiccas jabbed him in the arm with a finger. "Changing the subject does not alter how deep into your cups you were that night." Then he started to laugh. "By all the twelve, Phaesté, but you and Alexander have the most dramatic lover's quarrels."

"And you were any better at sixteen?"

"I will have you know that I have never yet dumped a lover into a river and then stomped away. Even at sixteen."

"Alexander fell in on his own. I simply chose not to help him out," Hephaestion defended himself.

Not very convincingly to judge Perdiccas' amusement. "And telling him that you hoped his cock rotted and fell off?"

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In a few hours time she would be formally introduced to her future husband. She had met him once, long ago as a child, but he had been her uncle then and her mother had still been a queen. So much had changed since that last encounter that there were times Cleopatra could hardly recognize her life.

"What a beautiful bride you will be," Lanike cooed as she carefully arranged the dark curls around the golden diadem she wore. "You will do your family proud and erase all that has come before."

"That is a great deal to expect of one marriage," Cleopatra murmured as she picked up a beaten bronze mirror. Slightly distorted, she could see only her mother's features staring back at her. Their colouring and the shape of their foreheads, nose and lips marked them as mother and daughter. It made Cleopatra shiver every time the resemblance was commented upon. The curse of her mother's madness called forth once again.

"Your husband is a good man," Lanike spoke up as she pushed the final pin into place. "He is also young and without any other wives, things that most brides can be assured of. It may not be a perfect match, but I have no doubt you will be happy enough."

It was true, everything that Lanike said, and Cleopatra was almost able to make herself believe it. She was marrying someone young. Alexandros was only twenty-six to her seventeen, an age difference that was barely noticeable when compared to some. And, unlike her mother, Cleopatra had every intention of doing their line proud. Andromache had been a noble queen, trading the splendor of Troy for the much more wild landscape of Epirus. She may not have willingly become Neoptolemus' wife, but she had done her duty and bore him a son. She had been loyal to her Greek husband even if her heart had belonged to her dead Trojan spouse. Cleopatra herself would hardly be such a tragic queen, but as a child she had always loved to hear stories of Andromache just as her brother had always loved to hear of Achilles.

Lanike squeezed her shoulder gently. "You come from greatness, my sweet girl, and will continue on in greatness. I am certain of it."

"May the gods grant it so."

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The chiton and chlamys he wore were not his finest, those had been set aside for the wedding festivities. The clothes he wore, however, were his second finest. Most of the ambassadors from around Greece had arrived in Aegae and in a few moments time the bride and groom would be officially introduced. They had met before, but at that time Cleopatra had still been a child. Now she was to be a bride so that ancient traditions would be upheld. Following the wedding there could be no denying that Philip had set Olympias aside in favour of a younger and far less mad queen.

"You are glowering again."

Pulling his lips in briefly, Alexander forced his features to relax. There was no reason for him to be so tense. Alexandros was a good man and would honour his sister as she deserved. It would be an insult to Philip to do otherwise as he owed his throne to the older man.

Glancing about the hall at the assembled dignitaries from all over Greece and Macedon, Alexander's eyes lightened on Hephaestion who stood among the rest of his Companions. Hephaestion looked amused more than anything, smirking in Perdiccas' direction. Alexander would have much rather been there among his friends, but his place was at his sister's side. He was her brother and the wedding that was soon to be celebrated was taking place in part because of him.

"I do not know how Hephaestion puts up with these moods of yours," Cleopatra scolded him, pushing her shoulders back in order to appear taller. "This is not the dire situation you have yourself convinced it is. It is a chance to put things right."

Alexander glanced quickly at his sister, wondering when she had grown up so much. For all that he still thought of her as a child, in that moment he could not deny that she was ready to become a queen. Cleopatra was far more sensible than anyone gave her credit for, even himself.

"I will be content in his marriage."

And because Alexander suspected those words were as much for her sake as they were for his, he did not dare contradict her.

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There was sense of majesty about Aegae that could not be ignored. It was Alexandros' first visit to the ancient capital and he could not help but feel slightly overwhelmed. Alexandros was comfortable enough in his own palace; he knew it and its people and had control in the outcome of situations. Here in Aegae he would just be a spectator because, despite his sister's imprisonment, Alexandros knew that Olympias would not allow the wedding to occur without some attempt at interference. Her devotion to Dionysus was one that he could not even begin to fathom and, foolish though it was, Alexandros feared the gods just might heed her frantic prayers. His sister was entirely too unpredictable.

Alexandros was escorted to the main hall by one of the king's pages, a young boy of about thirteen who announced his arrival. All eyes in the hall turned to him, the Greeks appraising yet another northern king while the Macedonians were no doubt searching for similarities between him and his sister. Simply going by appearance there were no similarities beyond the shape of their eyes. Their politics could not be any more different, Alexandros having grown up with a great affection for Greece. Even had it not been Philip who had all but placed him on the throne he would have supported the elder monarch.

At the far end of the hall, seated in a grand throne, was Philip. For all of the jovial nature he was trying to present, it was impossible to not be intimidated by the older man. Philip was simply an intimidating man which helped to make him such a successful general and king. To Philip's left were Alexander and Cleopatra. Cleopatra was a beautiful girl who did not have the sinister air of her mother. The way that she constantly seemed to be nudging her brother, teasing him about something, hinted that she was a much more joyful than Olympias. The only one he did not know quite what to make of was Alexander. The younger man was as much an enigma as he had been as a child. Alexandros was certain, though, that he did not want to cross Alexander. He had heard the tales of what had happened in Illyria and had no interest of being the one to anger Alexander.

"Welcome, Alexandros!" Philip enthused as soon as he had reached the dais. "It is good to see you again, lad." Clambering down from his throne, Philip gathered him close in an exuberant embrace.

Alexandros returned the hold, though without the same amount of force as the Macedonian king. He simply did not have the massive personality that Philip of Macedon did. Keeping one arm around Alexandros' shoulders, Philip turned the both of them towards his children. On cue, Alexander led his sister forward a few steps, hand on the small of her back.

"Cleopatra, it is a wonder to see you looking so lovely today," Alexandros greeted his bride, smiling fondly at the young girl.

"My lord," Cleopatra demurred, lowering her eyes briefly. When she lifted her eyes once again, Alexandros found himself caught up in her remarkably dark eyes.

Alexandros inclined his head towards his bride, unable to prevent his lips from curling upwards. "My lady."

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For much of the wedding celebrations Hephaestion had spent very little time with Alexander. Companion or no, he was not a member of the aristocracy and the two of them were forced to spend much of their time apart. It was strange to be so incredibly close to his lover, yet not close enough to do more than share a few glances. At Pella, even though Alexander was prince, his station hardly mattered. Things were far less formal and he could stand alongside Alexander should either of them feel the need.

"The two of you were made for each other," Leonnatus snorted, jabbing Hephaestion lightly in the ribs. "He looks as though he has ruffled tail feathers and you glower on his behalf."

"You have entirely too much time on your hands if you pay attention to things like that."

"It is impossible not to," Perdiccas spoke up from his other side. "Except that you look nothing alike the two of you could be mirror images of one another."

Hephaestion looked over both of his shoulders, glaring at both of them. Or rather, he attempted to, but it was difficult to appear threatening when he was unable to keep the smile from tugging at the corners of his lips. He could only shake his head in frustration when Leonnatus and Perdiccas began laughing quietly. With all the other noise in the hall the sound was barely audible. The only reason Hephaestion was able to hear it because he was standing so close to him.

From the dais, Alexander glanced in his direction and Hephaestion smiled fondly at him. Even from where he was standing Hephaestion could see how tense Alexander was. Alexander had been out of sorts since they had left Pella and try as he might Hephaestion had been unable to coax him out of his dark mood. It did not surprise Hephaestion that Alexander persisted in his melancholy state. It would be impossible for Alexander's thoughts not to be drawn to his mother given that it was her brother whose wedding they were celebrating.

Still, once he was able to get Alexander alone once again, Hephaestion would do what he could to lift his lover's spirits. Weddings were meant to be festive times and from what Hephaestion understood King Philip had spared no expense with the wedding games. The king wanted to show the Greeks that Macedon was as civilized as the rest of the Hellas and that his kingdom was not full of barbarians. Hephaestion did not know all of the details of what the wedding games entailed but they would be far more grand than Philip's own marriage to Eurydike.

Slinking backwards through the crowd, Hephaestion made his way out of the great hall. Things would progress for a while yet and during that time Hephaestion intended make things ready for Alexander in his rooms. With luck he would be able to distract Alexander from his troubles for at least a night.

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It was late when he was able to retreat to his quarters. The sky was already beginning to show signs of the coming dawn. He had not seen Hephaestion for hours. Hephaestion had never developed the Macedonian passion for drink. The other man could handle his liquor as well as any true born Macedonian, but had always abstained from excessive drinking. Since his abduction the year before he drank even less and certainly never to the point where he was no longer in complete control of his senses.

Alexander's own head was slightly fuzzy as he stumbled into his bedroom, but was brought up short by the sight that greeted him: Hephaestion reclined naked on the bed reading from the Iliad. Hephaestion's eyes flickered briefly towards him before he finished whatever passage it was he had been reading.

"Since I was a boy I marvelled at Achilles' courage," Hephaestion spoke softly as he set the tale aside. "Killing Hector even though he knew it meant his own death."

"He knew that Patroclus was waiting for him on the other side, calling him home," Alexander responded as he crossed the short distance to his bed. "Killing Hector would bring him glory and reunite him with his love which would make his death more of a blessing than a curse."

These were sentiments that Hephaestion knew just as well as him which meant there was a secondary meaning intended.

"I do not regret anything because it has purged her from your life and made the both of us stronger."

He could only stare at Hephaestion in absolute wonder. Alexander watched transfixed as Hephaestion rose from the bed and crossed to where he stood. His love silently knelt down before him and, with gentle murmurs and nudges, got his boots off. Rising to his feet, Hephaestion unfastened his chlamys then his chiton. The both of them stood naked, close enough to touch, but not doing so. Not until Hephaestion lifted a hand to cup Alexander's cheek.

"In a few days she will be forgotten by all," Hephaestion continued, speaking as one would to a skittish horse. "You and your father will go on to glory in Asia and your greatness will be remembered for all time. Myth and legend will swallow up some parts of your tale, but what is truly important will remain for all time."

Alexander swooped forward, catching Hephaestion's lips with his own. He felt Hephaestion smile as the kiss deepened and brought both hands up to clutch his lover against him. He had not realized himself that such words needed speaking, but they had soothed him in a way the wine had been unable to that night. Alexander wondered if Hephaestion was aware of just how much he relied on his strength and knew that he would never be able to express that need vocally. Hephaestion knew him so completely, though, that he did not doubt that his beloved knew.

To make absolutely certain, though, he expressed with his body what he could not with words and as exhaustion claimed him just as the sun was rising over the horizon his soul felt all the lighter.


	11. Part XI

**Part XI**

The sun had not yet risen when he awoke. Dawn was likely still hours off and with it would come the wedding games his father had been planning for months. The glory of Macedon would be on display for all of Greece; his father would finally be able to prove that their home was not just some backwater tribal land. Macedon would show her Hellenistic routes. It would not have surprised him to learn that his father had not slept at all that night. Likely the only reason he had slept was because of the man still slumbering next to him.

Over the past few days Hephaestion had been a most welcome distraction. It was at night when he needed to be distracted the most. That was when his thoughts got ahead of him and he could not stop his fears from encroaching inwards. And, as he had since they were young, Hephaestion kept those fears from swallowing him whole.

Even without the sun, the moon still cast enough light for him to see. More than enough to see Hephaestion who slept peacefully beside him, lips slightly parted. And even though the posture of his body showed only relaxation, Alexander knew that the arm that stretched under his pillow was clutching tightly at a knife.

"I wish that you could sleep peacefully again," Alexander murmured, lightly laying his palm overtop of Hephaestion's cheek.

Hephaestion shifted about a bit, but did not waken. It amazed Alexander that even in sleep Hephaestion knew him. When anyone else made so much as a sound Hephaestion would be awake in an instant and on the defensive. Instead of waking, Hephaestion sighed deeply and stretched a moment before settling once again.

Alexander kept his hand on Hephaestion's cheek, watching him as he slept. It was something he was quite certain he would never tire of; a form of meditation that only he is allowed to partake in. Alexander feared the day he would have to share Hephaestion with another. It was a day that he knew would come regardless. At some point both he and Hephaestion would need to take wives. It was something that could be put off while his father continued to live, but at some point it was a reality they would need to face.

Stirring slightly, Hephaestion's eyelids began to flutter. Alexander kept his hand still, hoping that he would not wake completely. It was a futile effort, though, because Hephaestion woke just the same.

Blinking his eyes sluggishly, a smile tugs at the corners of Hephaestion's lips. "You should be asleep. Today will be a long day."

"I did not mean to wake you," Alexander murmured, stroking his thumb over Hephaestion's cheek. "Go back to sleep. There is no need for both of us to be awake."

Snorting quietly, Hephaestion leaned his head into Alexander's palm. "You are thinking far too loudly for me to even consider sleeping. Besides, if I sleep you will only worry. And when you worry, you tend to fidget about," Hephaestion yawned, rousing himself more with each word. "It would be better for both of us if you tell me now what is troubling you. Then we could get some more sleep before we are expected at the theatre."

"I wish that we could be seated together," Alexander said softly, rolling slightly so that he was lying mostly on his back. "You are first among my Companions; that should permit you a seat near my own."

"I am also your male lover. Your older lover at that—"

"Seven months is hardly enough to be of any consequence," Alexander interrupted him.

Hephaestion hoisted himself up on one elbow. "All the more reason not to draw attention to things. You know this as well as I do."

"I do," Alexander relented, sighing deeply. "When I am king, though, you will always be at my side. In Asia as well. We will honour Achilles and Patroclus together and ride into Babylon side by side. Your importance will never be in doubt."

Hephaestion's smile was utterly exhausted, but lacked nothing in intensity. All the same, Alexander felt guilty for keeping him awake and leaned up to catch his lips in a quick kiss.

"We may not be able to watch the games together, but we can celebrate once they have finished."

The glint in Hephaestion's eyes as he said those words heated Alexander all the way through.

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Whenever he had a spare moment, he checked the contents of his pouch. The items within were nearly as important as the knife belted at his waist. Much like the insides of his pouch, the knife would be a further source of misdirection. Though not so as amusing as the first.

Only a few more hours then all of their planning would come to fruition. Philip would be dead before the sun even reached its zenith and the rest of his line would follow soon afterwards. He had never had any care about Alexander's fate, but certain people backing the endeavour did. And as they were the ones who held the purse strings their word was law.

For him, though, once Philip was dead there was nothing further he could do. His identity would be known and he would be hunted relentlessly until he reached Asia Minor. There others would keep him safe.

Checking once more that the items were safely stored in his pouch, he looked towards his companion. "We should see to the horses."

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The entire night she had not been able to sleep a wink. Philip had stayed away from their bed claiming he had no wish to disturb her with his own restlessness. Trying to convince her beloved husband that she would find no sleep as well had proved futile, leaving Eurydike alone in too large a bed.

Exciting as this had all sounded back in Pella, surrounded by the whole of Greece she could not help but feel uneasy. Many of the men who had come to Aegae would gladly see Philip dead. More than half of those would willingly strike the blow themselves. They were irrational fears, ones that Philip would no doubt laugh off, but she could not escape them. It was the fate of every queen, knowing that with her husband's death she became a puppet. And should he have it his way, her uncle would be the one guiding the strings from which her infant son hung suspended.

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Standing at the narrow window that overlooked the courtyard, her one view outside of her rooms, Olympias watched life return to the pathetic settlement Philip had banished her to. The only reason she had not made any attempt at escape as of yet was the knowledge that soon Philip would be dead and her beloved Alexander would summon her back to Pella. It was Philip and that whore who had poisoned her sweet boy's mind against her and without them he would come to his senses.

She only wished that she could be in Aegae to see it all come to pass. Her darling boy would mourn his whore for a time, but in the end he would come to see that it was all for the best. He would wed, get his new bride pregnant and then depart for Asia leaving her as regent. She would ensure that his dynasty thrived and that his name would be remembered through the rest of time.

With her help, Alexander would outshine Achilles himself.

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The sun had only just risen when he and Alexander parted ways for the day. They had left the palace and made their way to the theatre together, but when Hephaestion went inside, Alexander would have to remain outside. He would be coming in later with the king and Alexandros of Epirus.

"Try to enjoy yourself today," Hephaestion murmured in Alexander's ear, squeezing his lover's shoulder briefly before turning towards the theatre. "Not everything is quite so dire."

He stayed long enough to watch the smile play on Alexander's lips before making his way into the theatre where the others were waiting for him. Alexander's Companions had been assigned to one of the wings of the theatre; the prince's right flank. From where he sat, Hephaestion had a clear view of the seats that were meant for the royal family. Cleopatra and Eurydike were already there, both looking radiant in the early morning light. Even from where he sat, Hephaestion could see that there was something bothering Eurydike. There was a tension about her that Cleopatra didn't seem to share. But as she was away from her young children for the first time such things were understandable.

"So here you are," Perdiccas laughed as he dropped down into the empty seat next to Hephaestion. "I am quite amazed. I would have wagered that we would need to forcibly separate you and Alexander."

Glowering briefly, Hephaestion snatched Perdiccas' wineskin from him and took a healthy swallow, grinning as the other man squawked in protest. Hephaestion was grateful that the wine was watered because he would have been lightheaded already had it been. And it was too early for him to be drinking that much. The heat would only grow and the wine would make things worse. He wanted to be aware of everything going on. He did not think he would be likely to see anything like it again in his life.

Slowly the theatre began to fill up, dignitaries and the upper echelon of the Macedonian court filing in. There were so many of them, more than Hephaestion had seen in one place since he was a boy in Athens. When he was young his father had taken him to hear the orators speak on a few occasions. Alexander had been jealous when he'd learned that he had heard Demosthenes give a proper speech. It had always irked Alexander that the only speech he had ever seen Demosthenes give was a stilted and stumbling one that the man had not even completed.

"Does anyone else think it could be a bit dangerous for the king to put himself on par with the gods?" Peucestas said to no one in particular.

"He is from the line of Heracles and Heracles was made a god," Leonnatus pointed out. "It could simply be him acknowledging his heritage."

"Greece will not see it that way," Hephaestion said quietly. "Athens in particular will see only that the king thinks himself a god. I cannot help but imagine what vile things Demosthenes will spew forth when he learns of this."

Seleucus chuckled darkly. "He will spew forth vile things regardless. The man is poison."

"But poison with a forked tongue and a sharp mind. That can be far more deadly."

"You would know," Perdiccas snorted. "I would hate to be on the wrong side of you in a fight, be it with words or with fists."

"It is hardly my fault your mind is led about by your cock," Hephaestion taunted to the amusement of the others, even Perdiccas.

Shaking his head in amusement, Leonnatus draped an arm over Hephaestion's shoulders. "Perhaps we should send you on ahead to the Persian royal court. You could talk circles around the lot of them and have them so confused that the barbarians will have no idea which way is up and will be fodder for the phalanx."

Perdiccas rolled his eyes. "Except that he speaks not a word of Persian and could just as likely end up stuck on a spit. I certainly do not fancy being the one to tell Alexander that the Persians have decided to keep Hephaestion."

"They would be more likely to lock him in the harem than anything else," Seleucus laughed, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically in a vague impersonation of a harem girl.

Before Hephaestion had a chance to retaliate, trumpeters sounded the arrival of the first of the twelve statues of the Olympian gods. The statues were finely crafted of flawless marble, the price of which Hephaestion did not even want to contemplate. All of the statues were painted brilliant colours, looking nearly lifelike in the early morning sun, and dressed in clothes far finer than anything he had ever owned. Shimmering gold fabrics, deep reds and purples, even the fashion on their feet were created out of real leather and not the simple paint that was found on most statues.

Last was the most anticipated statue of them all; the one of King Philip himself. Had one not been raised with a knowledge of the Greek gods it would be easy to assume that the statue was one of the gods. There was no difference in the craftsmanship; it was just as impressive as the rest of the statues. Around him he hears whistles, though whether of approval or shock he cannot quite make out.

The statue of the king had only just been set upon his pedestal when the man himself stepped into the theatre, arms outstretched and a broad smile on his face. All of Macedon was on its feet, cheering for her king, while the Greeks mumble among themselves. Nothing like it has been seen before in the memory of anyone seated within the theatre.

Hephaestion did not see the second figure until the man stood before Philip. Like the rest he was not sure what was happening until the king began to slump to the ground. The loud scream that drowned out all others in the theatre had Hephaestion rushing forward before the others can react. Never before had he ever heard Alexander's shout filled with such terror and feared what it meant.

Shoving his way through the chaotic crowd, Hephaestion was nearly tripped up more than once by people rushing about frantically. The Royal Guard was already at the front of the theatre and had surrounded Philip's body. Through the gaps between their legs he could occasionally make out Alexander's bright hair, bent over what he assumed was the king's body.

There was no mistaking the blood staining the ground.

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"I want you to know," Alexandros said as they watched King Philip walk alone down the tunnel that lead into the theatre, "that I had not knowledge of what my sister had planned when she sent the men here to kill your friend. All of her communications were supposed to be given to me first, but she had bribed someone to sneak it out."

Alexander glanced towards his uncle, now brother-in-law, seeing right away the sincerity in his eyes. He could not think of the necessary words to say and settled in the end for inclining his head briefly.

"I had a chance to speak with your friend yesterday during the festivities. Even with all he has been through he is a good man. It would have haunted me forever had I had my negligence lead to his death," Alexandros continued. When he smiled a moment later, there was a macabre quality to the expression. "I do not doubt that you would have laid waste to all of Epirus had they killed him."

"Love my sister, honour her as she deserves, and do not take up arms against my father or me and I will never have any reason to take up arms against you," Alexander said with all seriousness. He then grinned at the older man. "Keeping the northern tribes in line while we are in Asia also would not go amiss. It would be a great shame to be forced to return here to deal with them while we are fighting Darius."

Alexandros laughed loudly. "I would not dare call Achilles back from battle. My life is worth more to me than that."

A sudden scream went up and before Alexander had even fully turned he saw his father begin to collapse. The king's falling body revealed a second man standing just beyond the tunnel: Pausanias. For an endless second Pausanias held his eyes, his grin feral, and then he was running.

"FATHER!" Alexander screamed as he sprinted down the tunnel.

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Demosthenes stood at his window overlooking the small courtyard below. He stretched his arms high above his head, a wide smile on his face. If it had not happened already, it would be soon. Philip, that uncouth Macedonian who considered himself a king of mere goatherds, was either already dead or would soon be so. If he had things his way the little princeling would be killed as well, but it was up to the Fates to decide what happened to the boy.

"It will be far more enjoyable if he lives," Demosthenes reminded himself, bringing a hand down to scratch his left armpit. "It will be a great pleasure to see him brought low."

Turning away from the window, Demosthenes immediately went to his writing desk. There were a great many correspondences he had to prepare and it was necessary that each look as though he was caught completely unaware by the events in Macedon. For the time being he could not be known as a conspirator in Philip's death. In due course he would take credit for it. Once the boy was dealt with and Macedon had returned to its backwater ways. Soon enough, Athens would once again be the supreme power in the Hellas and it was Athens, not Macedon, that would throw off the yoke of Persian power in Anatolia.

"I quite like the sound of that," the aging demagogue murmured, reaching for a quill.

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Pumping his legs as hard as he could, Pausanias sprinted through the field and towards the low fence. On the other side of the fence was his escape. A fresh horse and money that would take him and his companion out of Macedon and into Persia. Behind him he could hear the sound of approaching feet and risked a glance over his shoulder to see how far of a start he had. Even as he was doing so it was a foolish thing to do.

His right foot caught on a large root and he stumbled. Before he could catch himself he tumbled to the ground. He scrambled forward, trying to drag himself back up, but there was nothing for it.

Just before he felt the first spearpoint stab into his back, Pausanias saw a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye. His life was finished, and he knew it, so with the remainder of his strength he reached out and closed his fingers about the ring.


	12. Part XII

**Part XII**

Alexander paced the confined space of his father's study. He had been shuffled back into the palace almost immediately after Philip had been killed and neither Cleitus nor Antipater had let him out of their sight since. Few people had been allowed in or out; guards reporting the situation and very few others. Alexander had seen none of his companions, not even Hephaestion who he had asked for repeatedly. Every time he was given some excuse as to why Hephaestion could not come. And while it frustrated him that Hephaestion was being kept away, it was the same with all the others.

"I want to see my father's body," Alexander demanded after drowning a cup of wine in a single gulp. "I want to pay my respects to him away from prying eyes."

"Not for the moment," Antipater cautioned, subtly placing himself between Alexander and the doorway. "You are not the clear successor. You will be in danger until you are officially declared king by the army."

"And am I to be kept secluded away from everything until that time? What of finding his killer and bringing to justice those involved in the conspiracy that led to his murder? I cannot hide away while all of this is going on. Athens will no doubt be stirring up trouble even as I say these words and I will not have all that my father built come to ruin because you have become cautious in your old age. Now let me go," Alexander ordered, coming to stand directly in front of his father's general. "And by the time I return I want Hephaestion here waiting for me."

Stepping around the older man, Alexander opened the door and exited the room. Outside were two of the Royal Guards; men, who until only a short while ago had been charged with the duty of protecting his father. Men who were now his personal guards. As he stalked down the corridor towards the room he knew his father's body would have been taken, Alexander was all too keenly aware that those men were now shadowing his path.

Alexander had always known that one day he would take his father's place as king of Macedon, but he had not thought that it would be so soon. It was only a few weeks before they were supposed to have left for Asia. Together he and his father were to have made Persia pay for its many crimes against Greece and improved Macedon's reputation.

Now the task was left to him alone. With his father dead hew as the one who would carry on with the invasion and ensure that Macedon retained her supremacy over the rest of Greece. He would be the one to ensure both his father's legacy and his own so that their line would live forever in greatness.

Alexander only hoped that he would live up to the standard his father had set.

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Standing away from the rest, Perdiccas stared at the ring he held in his palm. He had seen the ring enough times to know exactly who it belonged to. It was the same ring that only a few weeks ago Hephaestion had been tearing his quarters apart looking for. The fact that Perdiccas was the one in possession of it was pure chance. There were only so many who would recognize the ring, but as it had been in Pausanias' possession when he had murdered the king its origins would be labouriously investigated.

What Perdiccas could not understand was just what Pausanias had been doing with Hephaestion's ring. The two men never had anything to do with one another and their paths very rarely crossed even in the line of duty. Perdiccas could not even recall a time when he had seen the pair exchange words, civil or otherwise.

A cold sense of dread swept over him when he saw the letter snatched out of the satchel looped over Pausanias' shoulder.

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His lover had given his life to get the ring that would be used to implicate Hephaestion Amyntoros in the king's murder. It was fitting that Pausanias was now dead because he was the reason his lover was dead. Pausanias had been in the Athenian's room with Lyander—he was the one who had taken the ring—but he had hidden like a coward when his lover had been discovered, slipping away in the confusion afterwards. He had never intended for Pausanias to make it out of Macedon, but the prince's overzealous Companions and the Royal Guards had done the job for him.

He felt a slight stirring of pity for Hephaestion Amyntoros, but it was only slight. His lover was dead because of this endeavour that he had never really wanted any part of. If the prince lost someone he cared for dearly then so be it. By the end of the day the Athenian's guilt would not be in doubt.

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Desperate as he was to see Alexander and ensure himself that his love was safe, duty prevented him. He was a captain in the Vanguard and as such had a duty to his men. He also had a duty to ensure Alexander's safety. Following Philip's death everything became chaos and though much of the Vanguard, and the army as a whole, was still in Pella, his column was not. So Hephaestion, along with the other captains and squadron leaders, had been charged with restoring order and ensuring there was no further tragedy that day.

"Hephaestion!"

Hearing the panic in Perdiccas' voice, Hephaestion felt a jolt of fear run through him. For one endless moment he thought Alexander was dead. That one of the Greek ambassadors had taken advantage of the confusion and killed Alexander. Perdiccas must have realized his thoughts because he immediately shook his head.

"It is not him," Perdiccas said breathlessly as he grabbed Hephaestion's elbow and led him to a more secluded area. "The trouble is yours, my friend."

Glancing around to ensure that no one was watching, Perdiccas placed an object in Hephaestion's right hand.

"How did you...?"

"Pausanias had it," Perdiccas murmured, his voice low. "It was clutched tight in his fist when we got to him. Anyone who sees this—"

"I had nothing to do with this."

Perdiccas waved his hand in an annoyed fashion. "I know that, man. So will anyone else who is not a fool. But anyone who knows only of what happened last year...."

Hephaestion slipped the ring onto his finger. "Did anyone else see this?"

"Not even Leonnatus."

Hephaestion closed his fingers into a tight fist. There was no mistaking that it was his grandfather's ring. The same one that he had thought lost in Pella. The young page in his room that morning had been no accident. Hephaestion could not recall seeing the ring after that incident. Olympias employing the boy as her assassin had never made much sense to them and now he knew why. The boy had never been meant to kill him. Fright had caused him to lash out and the page had made the perfect decoy for the true act.

From over Perdiccas' shoulder, Hephaestion noticed the rapid approach of several guards. The man in the lead, Astinos, was staring directly at him and there was no hint of mercy in his expression. Hephaestion was grabbed up without ceremony, one man holding tight to each arm. He struggled briefly, but not overly so. To do otherwise would hint at guilt for a crime that he knew he had not committed, but was being framed for.

"What is going on here?" Perdiccas demanded trying to get between Hephaestion and the soldiers. "On whose authority are you arresting him?"

"Perdiccas—"

"There is evidence that implicates him in the murder of the king," Astinos said, nodding for one of the nearby soldiers to restrain Hephaestion further.

"Perdiccas—"

"What sort of evidence?" his friend continued as though he had not heard him. "He has been with either Alexander or myself all day."

"It matters not. Now stand aside or you will be taken in as well," Astinos growled, nodding towards the men restraining Hephaestion. "Take him."

"You are making a mistake," Perdiccas insisted, standing toe to toe with Astinos.

"Perdiccas, stop it!" Hephaestion shouted, finally succeeding in gaining the other man's attention. "This will do no good."

"You would be wise to listen to your friend. This has nothing to do with you, boy."

Without any further preamble, Hephaestion was dragged towards the barracks.

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As he was rounding a corner, Alexander was nearly run down by Perdiccas who was sprinting down the adjoining corridor. Alexander reached out instinctively, catching Perdiccas' shoulders as he stumbled.

"Perdiccas, man, slow down. What are—"

"Hephaestion has been arrested!"

The calm that Alexander had managed to achieve while standing watch over his father's body vanished in that instant. It was not difficult to figure out the pretences Hephaestion had been arrested under, what he did not know was exactly why. Hephaestion had done nothing. There was no reason for him to be arrested, but whatever the reason was Alexander was certain that his mother had something to do with it.

"I should have had her killed," Alexander murmured, squeezing his eyes shut tight. "When she sent the mercenaries after him, I should have forced my father's hand and had her killed."

"You do not know that it was her," Perdiccas tried to argue.

Alexander laughed darkly, slanting his eyes towards his friend. "Name another who bears such a hatred for Hephaestion."

As he had expected, Perdiccas was silent.

"Go back to Antipater and tell him I have gone to the barracks," Alexander said to the two guards shadowing his every move.

"My lord—"

Alexander's glare silenced the man immediately. "You will do as I say and Antipater will abide by my decision. Tell him that Perdiccas is acting as my escort if that will ease his mind."

Alexander did not wait for the man to respond before striding quickly down the corridor. He could immediately hear Perdiccas falling in step beside him, but did not pause to confirm it. There was no time. He feared what would happen to Hephaestion if he had been linked to the king's death. That day was meant to be a proud one for Macedon, one that would show Greece that she was no longer some backwater tribal land, but instead had ended with King Philip's murder before all of Greece.

"Pausanias was carrying Hephaestion's ring when he died," Perdiccas told him when the reached the end of the corridor. He grabbed hold of Alexander's arm, stopping him momentarily. "The ring has been missing since before we left Pella. Hephaestion was looking for it one night when I went to fetch him for the evening meal…. But I took it today before anyone else saw it so I do not know what evidence is they have against him. It was Astinos who came to arrest him. Astinos and.... Astinos and Creander."

"Astinos is Lyander's brother."

Perdiccas' brows furrowed. "Lyander?"

"The boy who was hiding in your quarters. The one who had been waiting for Hephaestion and attacked you instead," Alexander ground out, stabbing his fingers into his hair. "By all the twelve.... How long has she been planning this?"

"You could not have prevented this," Perdiccas was quick to assure him. "Your mother will be ruled by no man, not even you."

"All of this she does because of me," Alexander reminded him.

"They are her own twisted thoughts and have nothing whatsoever to do with you. If she gave any thought to your feelings she would leave Hephaestion be."

True as the words were, Alexander found them difficult to believe.

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"Oh, my love," Eurydike murmured, stroking her fingers through Philip's lank hair. "I knew that at some point I would be standing over you like this, but I had not thought it to be so soon. Our children are no more than babes and you are hardly an old man. We should have had many years together yet. But now I am left to the whims of the Fates. And while I do not fear for myself, I cannot help but worry for Europa and Caranus. What will become of them should that vile woman sink her claws into them?"

No answer was forthcoming, not that one was expected. It was comforting, though, to voice her fears aloud. Perhaps with them spoken she would be able to banish them that much easier.

"It is already being whispered that Alexander's lover is the one behind your murder. I cannot see it, though. From the little I know of him, I can tell that he respected you. Even after all that he endured, his anger was not directed towards you. I do not doubt your former queen's involvement, though. She is a snake and has stolen what should have been your crowning glory.... Alexander will do you proud, though. I have no doubt of that. And when Caranus is old enough, perhaps Alexander will grant him some part of his empire...."

Eurydike's voice caught at the end and she had to swallow deeply to keep her grief from consuming her whole. She was the queen of Philip of Macedon and could not afford to appear weak. Vultures from all over Greece and Macedon were swarming about Aegae and would attack were she to show any kind of hesitance. She would be strong as Alexander was being and bring honour to Philip's memory. It was all that she could do for him any longer.

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Hephaestion shifted about uncomfortably. He was in an empty storeroom, seated on the floor with his hands bound behind his back. Try as he might he could not find a more comfortable position because no matter how he moved he was always leaning back against his wrists. Given the severity of the crime he had been accused of, Hephaestion was relieved that was the worst of his inconveniences.

"Stand aside now."

Hard and emotionless as it was, there was no mistaking Alexander's voice. Hephaestion had known that his lover would show up before long; would have put money on Perdiccas first stop being to tell Alexander of what had occurred.

The door was flung open and Alexander immediately strode in. He stood rigid, giving no emotion away until the door was closed behind him. Then, in the space of a breath, he was beside him, hands methodically checking him over for injury.

"Calm yourself, Alexander, they have not harmed me," Hephaestion said, ducking his head down in hopes of catching Alexander's eye. "They simply tied me up and put me in here. I do not even know what it is I am supposed to have done."

"They have a letter, Hephaestion. One written in your hand that names you as the one who orchestrated all that has happened today."

The icy hand that Hephaestion had been hiding from since Astinos had first appeared to arrest him began to sink itself into his heart. He leaned his head back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut tight. Alexander's hands framed his cheeks, guiding his head away from the wall and forward so that their foreheads touched.

"I swear to you, Alexander, I had nothing to do with it," Hephaestion murmured fiercely.

"I never even considered it," Alexander said immediately. "And having read the letter I know that you did not write it. The lettering is yours, but not the language. Zeus' cock, Phae, you correspond with Aristotle and we are expected to believe that you would write something with such base language."

Hephaestion chuckled darkly, leaning back slightly and blinking his eyes open. "Do you really think that will matter? The king is dead and his murderer died too quickly for the army to feel any sense of justice. They will want a sacrifice, Alexander. They will need it. Who better than the Athenian?"

"Do not even jest about such things," Alexander growled, clutching Hephaestion's face between his palms. He held Hephaestion securely, forcing him to hold his gaze. "There are none who think of you that way. You have proven yourself over and again that you are as Macedonian as the rest of us. This is all my mother's doing. She is a vile and hateful woman and I will no longer stand by and allow her persecute you this way."

"Alexander—"

Alexander shook his head, cutting off his protests. "I will not hear it again. All I need do is give the order and you will be free. Anyone with sense will realize that she is behind it."

"Do you really think anyone will listen to sense right now?" Hephaestion asked, leaning back against the wall. "You would loose all credibility with the army if you were to set me free. You would be showing favouritism to your lover and they will not stand for that when their king is dead."

"I will not have you treated as a criminal when you have done nothing wrong."

Hephaestion sighed deeply and forced a smile for Alexander's sake. "I can survive a night in here while things are sorted out. It is not the most comfortable of lodgings, but it is not the worst I've endured."

"Do not try to make this better for my sake," Alexander pleaded, sitting himself back on his heels. He stayed close enough to Hephaestion so that their knees touched. "You are being mistreated because of your relationship to me. Because I love you."

"And as I told you back in Illyria, I always knew there would be a price I must pay for loving you," Hephaestion reminded him.

"There is no such price to be paid and even if there was you have already offered up more than enough."

Hephaestion smiled wryly. "That is up for debate. I can assure you, however, that being loved by you is worth any price I must pay."

It was only after he had coaxed Alexander into leaving that Hephaestion allowed his calm façade to fade away. He did not doubt that Alexander would do his utmost to ensure that he was released, he did not think that it would come to pass. The army would need someone to vent their anger and rage on, and at the moment he was the best candidate. He only hoped that Alexander would not be there when it came to pass.

Olympias had planned it all well. Given all that he had suffered at one of Philip's mines it would make sense that he would bear some hatred for the Macedonian king. Festering for well over a year, that anger would have had plenty of time to grow. Increasing in magnitude, it could very easily lead him to plotting regicide. Except that he had never blamed Philip for what had happened to him, or even for the state of the mines. Men without hope were more animal than anything else. Many letters had passed between he and Aristotle debating just that topic and while at the beginning he had been filled with anger at what had been done to him, those long rambling letters had done much to quell his rage and ease his mind. There was no point in blaming Philip for what had happened to him because it had not been his fault. Olympias had taken advantage of something that had already existed leaving him to deal with the consequences.

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Hephaestion breathed in deeply many times over but could not prevent a few tears from leaking past his closed lids. His breathing was ragged, but he refused to give into his fears.

In the end, things would turn out as they were meant to.


	13. Part XIII

**Part XIII**

Perdiccas stood rigid outside the storeroom door, sword hilt gripped tightly in his hand. On the other side of the door, Seleucus stood at equal attention. Until this madness was over and Hephaestion was released at least two of the Companions would be standing guard over him at all times. They would not let Hephaestion suffer for crimes that he had not committed at the hands of overzealous guards. There was no doubt in any of their minds that Olympias was responsible for his being caught up in the conspiracy of King Philip's murder.

And while it would be easy enough to spirit Hephaestion away from Aegae and hide until they could find proof of his innocence, Perdiccas knew that it is not an option. Flight would only hint at guilt and even if it did not Hephaestion would never agree to run. The man was stubborn as could be, a trait Perdiccas found as annoying as he did admirable.

"We could just kidnap him and force him to leave that way," Seleucus suggested half-heartedly. "It would be easier for Alexander to find proof of Hephaestion's innocence if he was not worrying about Hephaestion himself."

"I can hear you, Seleucus, and I am telling you right now that I will not go with you," Hephaestion shouted through the door. "In any case, no one will believe any evidence Alexander brings forth because we are lovers. They will assume that he is trying to protect me."

"Which he is," Perdiccas spoke up.

Even though he could not see it, he could clearly envision Hephaestion rolling his eyes at the comment.

"But to pardon me with no evidence but his own will only cast doubt on his involvement in the king's death. I will not do that to Alexander."

"Should that decision not be Alexander's to make?"

"Not if he chooses me over his future glory. I will not let him risk that."

Had he been in the same room as Hephaestion, Perdiccas would have throttled him then. It was complete insanity which Hephaestion was trying to do.

"It is not up to you to sacrifice yourself," Seleucus pointed out. "The gods do not have it in for you to be a scapegoat."

"It is only Olympias who is out for your blood and she is mortal," Perdiccas reminded him.

Hephaestion was silent for a long while, something that was never a good sign because for all of his intelligence, Hephaestion had very little measure of his own self-worth. He would not hesitate to throw himself into danger to keep someone else from the same fate.

"If Alexander is unable to stop this, I do not want him to see my execution. Do what you must, but keep him away."

"Do you have such little faith in us?" Perdiccas demanded, turning to glare at the door. "Do you honestly think that we will not do all that we can to keep you alive? I do not know where we will find the proof yet, but there is not a man among us who will not do all that he can to free you."

Hephaestion's silence continued for a few moments. "I do not want any of you put in danger because of this. Olympias is a viper. She will not stop until I am destroyed and I could not bear for any of you to be caught up in it."

"That is our decision to make, Hephaestion, not yours," Seleucus said with conviction. "So let us do what we can to see you safe from this."

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She could not recall ever having seen a more beautiful sunset. It was a sunset that Philip would never see. That bloated pig would never see another sunset and with luck neither would any of the brats he had spawned from his whores. Arrhidaeus and Caranus were too valuable as puppet kings to be allowed to live. Alexander was clever enough to remove Amyntas and Attalus from power, but her darling Achilles had a sentimentality about him that made him weak. Those soft emotions would keep him from killing his siblings even though it was necessary for his own survival. It was his Athenian whore that fostered such weakness in him, but the Athenian would no longer be a threat.

"You will wish that you had died in Illyria," Olympias murmured as she fingered the jeweled stem of her cup. "Those fools will tear you limb from limb for killing their beloved Philip."

It was unfortunate that she would not be present for his death. Hephaestion had caused her nothing but grief since he had come from Athens. Right from the very start Alexander had been fascinated with the boy. From the moment the two boys had met, Alexander had talked incessantly about Amyntor's brat. She had grown tiresome of him from the very beginning and always hoped that he would disappear back to Athens, but Dionysus had been testing her. So she had endured the years of the Athenian usurper's presence while she waited for Dionysus to reward her patience.

With Philip dead and Hephaestion soon to be executed she would once again be first in Alexander's affections.

Yet as she stared out towards Aegae, Olympias could not ignore the slight twinge of sorrow that she felt knowing that Philip was dead. For all that she had loathed him in the final years of their marriage, she had loved him once. She could not recall the time when that love had turned to hatred. But turn it had, the love she had felt for him only a distant memory.

She took a deep swallow of wine, willing such thoughts from her mind. Philip was a threat to Alexander's future and had needed to be removed. In the end Alexander would see that she had done everything for his sake.

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"It was not Hephaestion," Alexander insisted, slamming his fist down on the table. "Hephaestion bore my father no ill will for what happened to him."

"That is not what the letter says. And it is written in his hand no less," Antipater said, glancing up from his own perusal of the letter found with Pausanias. "It is very convincing, Alexander. The army will only listen to this, not to reason."

Taking the crumpled letter from the aging general's hand, Cleitus looked over it yet again in hopes of finding some fault in it. He had already read it half a dozen times and had yet to see anything that would hint at anyone other than Hephaestion being the author.

_iI am trusting you to keep the contents of this letter secret. The prince's tongue gets quite loose after a good swiving and I have been able to learn many of the key elements for the wedding games at Aegae. Most important is that Philip means to enter the theatre alone once the statues have all been presented. He will be weak and vulnerable and prime for you to do as you will._

_I would plunge the knife in myself for all that he made me suffer in Illyria. I have been permanently marked and my family dishonoured all because he cannot control his woman. Such a spineless man has no business being king or leading trueborn Greeks into Asia. Best to stop him now before he gets anymore full of himself./i_

Had the letter not been in Hephaestion's hand and bearing his signature, there would have been a chance of proving his innocence before the army. Worse still, there were those who would simply not care whether the letter was authentic or not and take advantage of its mere existence. Many hated Hephaestion and would gladly see him removed from his position in Alexander's inner circle. With no effort at all he could easily name half a dozen in relatively high positions within the court who were jealous enough of Hephaestion to take action against him.

"The army wants someone to blame, Alexander," Antipater reminded him calmly. "Pausanias died too quickly and it is already common knowledge that there was another rider out there. Granted, Hephaestion was in the theatre so it cannot have been him, but there is too much that hints at conspiracy and finding this letter on Pausanias is the worst possible thing that could have happened."

"But it is too obvious!" Alexander shouted, throwing his cup across the room. "Too convenient! If there were any letters passed between Pausanias and whoever led this operation, they would have been destroyed once their contents were known. The only reason the letter would have been kept was if someone wanted them found."

Cleitus could not argue with Alexander's logic because he agreed with the boy. The location of the letter was far too obvious which meant that Pausanias either wanted the letter found or he was a complete idiot. Much as he wished it was the latter, Cleitus strongly suspected that it was the first.

"We will have to wait for the scouts to return with Pausanias' accomplice to find out for certain," Antipater told Alexander for what Cleitus was certain was at least the sixth time that day. "Until then, Hephaestion must remain where he is. You can show no favouritism to him whatsoever. The army will revolt and right now you cannot risk that happening."

"I do not care about the kingship if it costs me Hephaestion," Alexander grumbled, slumping back in his chair. He scrubbed his hands over his face, carding his fingers back into his hair. "Hephaestion would throttle me for saying such a thing, but it is the truth. What good is all of the years we have spent planning what we would do in Asia if he is not there by my side."

"This is not just about you, Alexander," Cleitus said as he sat down on the edge of the desk, directly in Alexander's line of sight. "This is about the honour of all of Greece. We are avenging the crimes committed by Persia; freeing Greek lands from Persian control. This is bigger than you and what is happening now. You have to take power of the army and maintain the alliances your father built with Greece and the tribes. They will all try to revolt and before we take the army to Asia Minor you have to assure their loyalty."

It was a lot of pressure he was putting on the boy, but Cleitus was certain that it was for the best. They needed to keep Alexander distracted. He could have no hand in clearing Hephaestion's name because it would not be accepted as the truth.

"Athens will be the first to revolt," Alexander said, straightening slightly as he fingered the edge of one of Philip's maps.

Cleitus released a deep breath, relieved to see Alexander's attention caught up by something else.

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Pressing his shoulders against the wall, Hephaestion used it as leverage to climb to his feet. All he had been doing for the last few hours was sitting, but he ached all over. The floor was unforgiving and his wrists were chafed from being rubbed between his body and the wall.

Shifting his shoulders slightly, Hephaestion began to pace the small confines of his cell. He did not want to die, but at the moment he could not see a way out of his current situation. Alexander could not pardon him and even if he could, Hephaestion would not allow him to. It would weaken Alexander's position if it got out that he was pardoned simply because he was Alexander's lover.

Through the door he could hear Leonnatus and Nearchus talking quietly to each other. They were the second set of guards he had had since being arrested. Try as he might to get them to leave, they refused, citing various different reasons. He could not get them to understand that he wanted to keep them out of it; that the rest of Alexander's Companions should be kept above suspicion.

Even though he had spent many long hours with nothing but his thoughts, Hephaestion could think of no way that Pausanias or his conspirators could get ahold of a sample of his writing. The bulk of his correspondences were written either to his father or to Aristotle, neither of who made likely suspects. He could think of no other letters he had written that could have fallen into the wrong hands. Like his ring, though, there was every possibility the letter had simply been taken.

When the door opened, he swivelled his head about. He was unable to stop the small grin from lifting the corners of his lips when he saw Alexander standing on the other side. Dire as he knew his situation was, he could not help but feel his mood lighten when he saw his lover.

"I know that my mother is behind this," Alexander growled as he crossed the room. "There is no other reason for you to be involved. Any other conspirator would have been content with my father's death alone."

As he continued ranting, Alexander was busy untying the coarse rope that bound Hephaestion's wrists together. Once the cord had fallen away, Hephaestion shook the feeling back into his hands and turned to face Alexander. Night had not even fallen and already Alexander looked exhausted. It was obvious how heavy the situation was weighing on him, and for the moment Hephaestion could think of no remedy for it.

All that he could do was envelope Alexander in his arms and hope that it offered him at least a bit of comfort.

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Able to hold Hephaestion at last, Alexander felt infinitely calmer. He could think clearly and no longer felt as though his mind was moving in a thousand different directions. It was expected of him to take up his father's mantle, even to sleep in his bed, but Alexander could not think of such things. He had been to see his father's body again a short time ago and though his face was pallid and drained of colour, Alexander still expected Philip to open his eyes.

"He has always seemed so invincible," Alexander sighed, pulling away from Hephaestion and carding his fingers through his hair. "I remember when I first heard tales of how he lost his eyes I believed that he could not be killed. Lesser wounds than that have killed many men. Then later the leg wound which should have killed him.... It seems a tragedy that someone as insignificant as Pausanias should kill so great a man."

Hephaestion's fingers slid into his hair as well, forcing Alexander to release the tight grip he had on it. "Your father was a great man and one of the best that I have ever known. And though he may not have been granted the glorious death he no craved, his name will live on through you and your future deeds. He forged the weapon that you will use to conquer the world. What better legacy could a man leave behind?"

Alexander could only stare at his lover in amazement. Hephaestion was facing death a crime he had not committed, but was still able to comfort him. It was the same as it had been in Illyria; Hephaestion had been suffering but had still taken the time to care for him.

"How could any man think ill of you?" Alexander marvelled, tilting his head slightly to the side. He only realized what he had done when Hephaestion's lips began to twitch and immediately straightened his posture.

"You may see the good in me, Alexander, but there are others who have only seen my temper. Those who will remember what happened to me nearly two years ago. And those same men will pay attention to nothing except my Athenian blood. It will not matter that it was Philip himself who made me a captain in the Vanguard or that I have already avenged myself on those who abducted me. They will see only what they wish to."

Hephaestion said the words with the utmost calm, almost as though he was reading his own death warrant. It worried Alexander that Hephaestion would submit himself to this possible fate; that he had so little faith in his friends' ability to save him.

"You will not die for what Pausanias did," Alexander insisted, clasping Hephaestion's face tight between his palms. He held Hephaestion's eyes for a moment before leaning up to catch his lips in a slow kiss. It was as much to comfort Hephaestion as to comfort himself.

It would be so easy for him to simply walk out with Hephaestion by his side. There were none who could deny him, except for Hephaestion himself. And Hephaestion would stop him; Alexander did not doubt that for one moment. He had always admired Hephaestion for not using their relationship for personal gain, but there were times that same trait frustrated him to no end. Times like this when it could very well mean his life.

"I will do what I must to see you safe," Alexander said fiercely, pressing his forehead to Hephaestion's. "I am the king now, or will be soon enough, so the Council will have no choice but to abide by my ruling if I say that you are innocent."

"Even you cannot do that," Hephaestion murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Alexander's mouth. "When you have rested and had a chance to process all that has happened today you will know that as well.... Though I will not protest if you use your newfound power to get me a blanket."

Despite himself, Alexander felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was short lived, though, when he saw that Hephaestion's smile did not reach his eyes. "If I was to ask you to come with me now, you would not come, would you?"

Eyes sliding shut, Hephaestion shook his head. "I would not."

"If it comes to it, and your life is in serious jeopardy, I will force you to go into hiding," Alexander told him, his voice unyielding. "You are a proud man, Hephaestion, and I admire you for that, but your pride should not cost you your life. Not now when I need you most. Once things are settled with the tribes and I am certain that Athens will not stir up trouble, I mean to follow my father's wish and leave for Asia. I cannot go without you. So I beg you, if there is no other option, flee."

"Only if there is no other option," Hephaestion at last consented.

It surprised Alexander that Hephaestion had agreed to easily, until his love opened his eyes and he saw the fear that Hephaestion was trying so very hard to conceal.

"You will not be the one to suffer for this crime," Alexander pledged, holding Hephaestion tight. He briefly kissed his beloved's cheek as he felt Hephaestion's own arms surround him.


	14. Part XIV

**Part XIV**

"Astinos, can I have a word with you, man?"

When the guard showed no signs of stopping, Perdiccas ran to catch up with him. He sped up even more when Astinos broke into a run. He had Seleucus and Peucestas with him and between the three of them managed to tackle Astinos to the ground. During the shuffle Perdiccas saw Astinos reaching for his knife. Seleucus grabbed hold of that wrist, pinning it to the ground above the struggling man's head.

"Hold!" Perdiccas shouted directly in Astinos' face. "We only want the truth. Help us to save Hephaestion Amyntoros and I assure you that you will have Alexander's gratitude."

Astinos continued to struggle, twisting against the hands holding him captive. "I know nothing! I was given the order to arrest Amyntoros and did it."

"And what of the fact that your brother attempted to kill Hephaestion?"

"That only made the job more pleasurable."

Nodding to his companions, the three of them got Astinos to his feet. His hands were tied behind his back and he was held securely to ensure that he did not attempt to run.

"The king wishes to speak with you," Perdiccas growled in his ear as they began to walk back towards the palace.

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He was nearly asleep when he heard the sound of approaching horsemen. He had ridden all through the day and had hoped he was far enough away to avoid detection. Quickly gathering up his scant campsite, he mounted his horse and took off at a gallop. He could not be caught. He would be killed on the spot.

As soon as he got to Persian soil he would be safe. The letters of safe conduct in his satchel would ensure that he would be set for the rest of his life. He would be honoured as the slayer of a tyrant and live gloriously.

So long as he made it to Persian soil....

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He had seen Astinos in passing countless times over the years but had never given the man any thought. The soldier had a good career and was an excellent fighter. He would have done well for himself on the Asian campaign, but now Alexander could only see his shortcomings.

"On whose command did you arrest Hephaestion Amyntoros?" Alexander demanded, staring levelly at the guard. He was seated at his father's desk—his desk now—and trying to look every bit the warrior Macedonian king Philip had been. "Because, try as I might, I cannot none of your superior officers can recall giving the order."

Astinos stood rigid, staring at a spot somewhere over Alexander's left shoulder. "Amyntoros was involved in plotting King Philip's death and arrested accordingly. He is as guilty of the murder as the man who struck the deathblow."

"That decision is not yours to make," Alexander growled.

"And it is yours?" Astinos snorted, ignoring the jab he received from Seleucus with the butt of a spear. "Everyone knows that he was only acting on your orders. Your faithful catamite doing whatever you—"

That time Seleucus struck him harder, forcing him to double up in pain. Alexander himself was biting savagely into the inside of his cheek to keep his own outburst silent. Only a day ago he would have been across the room and have punched Astinos in the face. He would have made Astinos regret insulting Hephaestion. Instead he had to rely on his friends to defend Hephaestion's honour; a duty that was rightfully his.

"That is hardly wise," Alexander said evenly, gripping the pommels at the end of the armrests tightly. "And you still have not given me the answers I require. Who gave you the authority to arrest Hephaestion?"

"You have already killed my brother, do you honestly expect me to believe you will let me out of here alive?"

"Your brother attempted to kill a member of the Vanguard. A Macedonian soldier. My father had no choice but to kill him," Alexander said, defending his father's actions. "Had he succeeded his fate would have been much worse. He chose a quick death, what will your decision be?"

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Only one day and he already knew every dimension of his cell. He had paced its interior countless times, length-wise, width-wise, and diagonally. Its only content aside from himself were a few sacks of feed and the blanket Alexander had procured for him. It had not surprised him in the least when Leonnatus had handed him the blanket Alexander had retrieved for him: a blanket from Alexander's own bed. A blanket that still smelled like the both of them.

He was no stranger to going without sleep or being uncomfortable, and with his friends guarding his cell he could endure both without the constant fear and unease he had experienced in Illyria. It was only restlessness that kept him on edge. Restlessness and worry over Alexander. Because, knowing Alexander as he did, he could not help but fear that Alexander would do something that would jeopardize his kingship. It was not that he thought Alexander foolish enough to do such a thing willingly, rather that he would unintentionally place himself in harm's way, politically as well as bodily.

When the door opened, Hephaestion was half-hopeful that it was Alexander on the other side. And while it would have brightened his mood considerably to see his beloved, he was not disappointed seeing Perdiccas there instead. Especially when he saw the tray of food the other man was balancing on one hand.

"In all my days I have never heard of a prisoner eating so well," Perdiccas chuckled as he uncovered the meal. On it was roast chicken, fresh baked bread, olives, cheese, and a jug of wine. "I must remember to ingratiate myself with my jailer if I am ever arrested."

"The accommodations leave something to be desired," Hephaestion grunted, managing a slight grin for Perdiccas' benefit.

Perdiccas rolled his eyes and handed over the tray. "You are a real comedian, Phaesté."

Hephaestion could think of no response so he quirked a small smile. The one that Perdiccas offered in return was just as grim. He knew that the others were doing all that they could to free him; he did not even question it. What worried him was whether his friends were placing themselves in danger in the process.

"Astinos is dead."

The words caught him completely off guard. He paused in the middle of tearing off a chunk of bread and stared at Perdiccas wordlessly. Even though it had been Astinos who had arrested him, Hephaestion had not given him much thought. He was simply a soldier following orders. Only now he was dead and Hephaestion could think of no reason why he should be.

"His brother is the page who was waiting to kill you. Lyander," Perdiccas explained, leaning back against the wall. "He admitted to knowing about the plot to kill Philip and doing nothing to stop it. Alexander, Seleucus, Cleitus, and myself extracted all of the information we could from him before we killed him."

"Only he could not tell you anything about the letter," Hephaestion surmised, dusting his hands free of bread crumbs.

Perdiccas nodded slowly. "Not a thing."

"And just how did Alexander take that?"

"As well as you can imagine," Perdiccas snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Parmenion and Cleitus are distracting him with plans for his father's funeral. It should be a grand thing, Philip deserves nothing less."

Hephaestion smiled softly and reached for the jug of wine. He dribbled a small amount onto the ground before lifting it aloft. "To Philip's shade."

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Though it knew it unlikely for news to arrive for at least a week, that night in his tent Attalus celebrated. Because when that messenger did come, he would bring with him news of Philip's murder and his own appointment as regent for his great-nephew Caranus. He would be in command of the Macedonian army and like Philip before him he did not necessarily need to relinquish power when the infant came of age.

Leaning back in his chair, Attalus waited for his page to remove his boots. Another was pouring him a cup of wine. He had an entire group of boys ready to do his bidding and when official word came of Philip's death he would enjoy all of the powers the other man had. It only caused him a slight twinge knowing that it was his friend's death that gave him that power. In the end, though, the power was far more important.

"Is there anything else you require, General?" the most senior of the pages inquired once all of his immediate needs had been seen to.

Attalus waved his hand absently in the boy's direction. "Go find your own bed."

The page nodded his head and promptly ushered the other boys from the tent. It was not the grandest of tents as he was only a general and not a king, but that would change soon enough. He would have pages and servants to do his bidding, a grand tent filled with expensive furniture and excellent food. And with the army under his total command he would destroy the Persian Empire and rule both it and Greece.

The only thing that could hinder all of his carefully laid plans was Alexander. There was no guarantee that the brat would have met the same fate as his father. Before he could gain control of the army he would need to ensure that the little bastard was dead because for reasons he could not understand the boy had the entire army under his thrall. Since even before Chaeronea, the army had been willing to do Alexander's bidding without a second thought.

With luck Alexander would have died during some foolish attempt at saving his father's life. The boy was certainly foolhardy enough to attempt such a thing. The only factor that would have likely prevented such a thing was the cursed Athenian. The brat should have died in Illyria. He was supposed to have died in Illyria. Without him Alexander would have been weak and much easier to dispose of. But now the Athenian would be dealt with properly. He had ensured that it was Hephaestion Amyntoros who would take the blame for Philip's death.

"It is a shame I will be unable to see the army tear you limb from limb," Attalus mused before taking a deep drink from his wine. "I would have taken great pleasure in that. But I will be content enough knowing that you are dead and that Alexander was unable to prevent it."

Attalus raised his goblet high and inclined his head briefly. "May the gods curse you, Hephaestion Amyntoros."

xxxxxxxxxx

"I want you to know that, no matter what, you and your children will be safe," Alexander said to Eurydike. Very soon she would be gone from Aegae, returning to Pella while he remained in the ancient capital. It was safer for her to be away from all of the turmoil in Aegae.

"You will send for me when it is time to bury him?" she asked quietly. Eurydike was dressed all in black, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed from many long hours crying. "Europa and Caranus will not remember it, but I want to be able to recall their father's glorious funeral for them."

Alexander nodded his head immediately. "Of course. I would not dare keep you away. You were the last of his wives and I know he found happiness with you."

Eurydike laughed quietly, a sad, broken sound. "I was happier than I thought I'd be when my uncle started plotting the marriage. I remember the first time I saw him. I was absolutely terrified of him. All the stories you hear of Philip of Macedon… he was like some ancient hero; Heracles or Agamemnon. But he could be so soft when he chose to; one of the kindest men I've ever known."

"I wish I had known more of that side of him," Alexander said quietly.

"Your father loved you dearly. He was always so proud of you," Eurydike sought to assure him. "He could not wait for the Persian campaign to begin. Philip knew that between the two of you, Macedon would be made great through the centuries to come."

"I thank you for the confidence you have in my abilities," Alexander murmured, managing a brief smile for her benefit.

Eurydike returned his smile, however briefly. "I want you to know, that should it come to it, I would support you over my uncle. He is family and I love him, but you are the better choice for king."

That was news Alexander had not expected in the least. He knew that there was no love lost between Eurydike and Attalus as a result of the latter's endless plotting, but he had not thought it had reached such an extent. Alexander and Caranus could easily be rivals for the throne; removing him would ensure Eurydike's own safety in the coming years. It was something Alexander suspected his mother would have done were she still in a position to do so.

"I am going to send Peucestas and Nearchus with you as a personal guard," Alexander informed her. "They will be answerable only to me so if you have any problems report it to one of them. You and the children will be safe in their care."

"Thank you," Eurydike whispered, inclining her head briefly. As she bowed her head down, Alexander could see the beginnings of fresh tears shimmering in her eyes. Deciding to leave her to her grief, Alexander made his farewells.

xxxxxxxxxx

He should not have been surprised by their appearance. Hephaestion had known that it was only matter of time before Philotas and Cassander came to gloat over his misfortunes. What was more surprising was that it had taken two days for the pair to make their appearance.

"So the favourite has finally fallen," Philotas chuckled darkly as he leaned against the wall just inside the door. "I would have thought your reason would shatter long ago."

"You give him far too much credit," Cassander chuckled, standing within the doorway to ensure that Hephaestion could not escape. "His reason was fucked out of him by those slaves in Illyria. The foreman as well if what I have heard is correct."

Philotas arched an eyebrow, his smile all too knowing. "The foreman as well? It seems that Alexander is not the only one in power you have offered yourself to."

"Is there any particular reason you are here?" Hephaestion sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Because, I can assure you, dull as my life is right now, I would rather not waste time dealing with you."

"For a man in your position you certainly are quite full of yourself," Cassander sneered, nudging Philotas aside so that he could properly close the door.

Hephaestion glowered at the pair, crossing his arms over his chest. "And just what position is that? I have done nothing wrong and soon it will be proven."

"If it could be proven, Alexander would have already set you free. It has been two days already and he has no reason to delay if you truly mean so much to him," Philotas taunted. He glanced briefly at Cassander then the two of them crossed to opposite sides of the room, boxing him in. "He has forgotten about you."

"You must know that I am not about to believe anything you say," Hephaestion snorted, bracing himself should either of them decide to pounce. He was outnumbered, but neither posed much of a threat. If it came to it, he could easily beat them. Even so, Hephaestion hoped he would not need to.

"Then you are a naïve fool."

"You will die for what you have done?"

"And just what is it that I have done?" Hephaestion demanded, glancing back and forth between the two. "Because from what I understand, either of you would benefit far more than I would from Philip's death. Your fathers are both in positions of great power and should either of them take the kingship you would be guaranteed a high command. Makes you far more likely suspects, does it not?"

As he had expected, the two fools bristled at the inference. They glared at him and each took a step towards him. Hephaestion was prepared for it and when Cassander dove towards him, he merely stepped out of the way. That was hardly the end of it and as soon as Philotas had righted his friend they both went on the offensive.


	15. Part XV

**Part XV**

It took every ounce of restraint Alexander possessed to stride past Philotas and Cassander without striking either. He glared at the pair, a faint growl escaping his lips as he hurried towards Hephaestion's cell. Much as he wished to, there was little he could do to either simply because of who their fathers were. It was something he knew they had always prided: their privileged lives. Alexander was fully aware of the advantages that came to him being Philip's son, but he had always tried to keep that from becoming an issue. He had never wanted to be known as "Philip's son."

"Quite fussing, Perdiccas. It is barely a scratch."

"Barely a scratch? Your nose is broken."

"He got a lucky punch in. They look far worse than I do."

"Not by much."

Perdiccas, Seleucus and Nearchus were in the room with Hephaestion. His lover was seated on a pile of grain sacks, holding a cloth over his nose. Underneath it, though, Alexander could see traces of a broad grin. The sight of that grin filled Alexander with a momentary irrational urge to strangle his beloved. The enmity between the trio was hardly anything new, but it had never before caused Alexander to actually fear for his lover. Not when he knew that Hephaestion was perfectly capable of defending himself.

"Why was no one watching the door?" Alexander demanded as he crossed the room to kneel in front of Hephaestion. "I gave orders about the guard rotation and those two were most certainly not on it."

"I am fine, Alexander," Hephaestion insisted before either Seleucus or Perdiccas had a chance to speak. "Besides, it is unlikely that the confrontation would have escalated to a fight had I not provoked them to it. You know them; they are cowards at heart. A few snide comments and they are content."

"Then why provoke them?"

That time Hephaestion's grin was utterly unrepentant. "Because there is little else for me to do at the moment."

"Hephaestion!"

"Look, I understand your worry," Hephaestion said much more sombrely. "And I am sorry for any distress I may have caused you, but you must understand my dilemma. You are out there right now where everything is happening. You are in the thick of it all and there is nothing I can do. Until it can be proven that I did not write the letter I am trapped in this room. And no—" Hephaestion said sternly when Alexander opened his mouth to protest. "—I am not blaming you. Even if it were possible for you to bend the rules for me I would not want you to do it."

Alexander tenderly gripped Hephaestion's face, turning it from side to side so that he could examine the damage. "I still wish that you would find other ways to amuse yourself."

"Give me something to do and I will gladly do it," Hephaestion volunteered. "Or if it is in your power, smuggle me in something to read."

"If you had asked sooner you could have saved yourself a broken nose," Alexander said, shaking his head slightly.

"Trust me, this minor discomfort is definitely worthwhile."

xxxxxxxxxx

"What, by all the twelve, were you fools thinking?" Antipater growled as he stalked before Cassander and Philotas. "I thought the two of you had more sense that this."

"Hephaestion is the one who started it," Cassander protested sullenly, not looking up from the ground. "He is insufferable and pompous even now. He needed to be taught a lesson, Father."

Antipater scrubbed a hand over his face, grumbling under his breath. "Neither of you should have even been in that room to begin with."

"But he plotted to murder the king!" Philotas burst out.

"Surely you cannot be that daft," Antipater groaned. "Hephaestion had nothing to do with Philip's death, any fool can see that."

"The letter—"

"—is an inconvenience. Without it we would have already proven Hephaestion's innocence. Now both of you get from my site this instant and be grateful you are too old to be taken over my knee," Antipater ordered, sparing nothing for either of the boys.

xxxxxxxxxx

"That piles goes over there," Aristotle instructed, waving his hand absently towards one of the many side tables in the room. "I will sort through them later."

At the moment he was busy rifling through a basket of letters. It was the one that he normally placed his correspondence from Hephaestion Amyntoros in. He had forgotten to respond to the last letter he had received from the boy and with the Asian campaign so near he wanted to send at least one more letter to his former pupil before he left Greek soil. He would send a second one for Alexander along with it, though he doubted it was necessary since they were ever reading one another's letters. Achilles and Patroclus, indeed.

"Can you have the kitchen boy fetch me something to eat?" the aging philosopher called to his servant. "Some figs and cheese would not go amiss right now. Neither would some wine."

Aristotle paused in his search, examining the scroll he had just withdrawn from the basket. It was rolled rather sloppily, and when he opened it to see its contents he found a part of the outer page missing. Aristotle would be first to admit that his filing could become quite disorderly, but nothing was ever mutilated as the letter from Hephaestion had so obviously been.

"Peculiar," Aristotle murmured to himself, setting the parchment aside so that he could examine it more closely later.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was only his obligations to the Greek ambassadors that forced Alexander from Hephaestion's cell. He would have much rather eaten with his lover, but it was expected of him to entertain his guests. Before he left, though, he had given Perdiccas a detailed list of the guard rotation for the remainder of the night and the next day.

The sound of his guard trailing after him as he walked back towards the palace was still strange to him. Alexander was used to having a crowd follow him, but they had always been his friends and he could talk freely with them. What was strangest was Hephaestion's absence at his side. Hephaestion should have been walking in step with him just as he had since they were children. Hephaestion was the first of his playmates to ever walk alongside him, the first one to question him, and the first one not to let him win. Hephaestion was the first one he had considered a true friend and now the other man could very well die because of that friendship.

His bodyguard waiting outside his rooms, Alexander was surrounded by a new horde of body servants. For the life of him he could not understand how kingship was meant to have robbed him of his ability to dress himself. He had tried dismissing them to no avail. They would not go and insisted upon doing every little task. It had been a fight for him to be allowed to fasten his own boots.

That evening, Alexander could not find it in him to protest. He was utterly still and allowed himself to be manipulated as he was dressed in a black chiton and chlamys, as well as a vast array of heavy golden jewellery. Thick cuffs and ornate rings that had belonged to his father only a few days ago. His ascension to the throne had not been officially affirmed yet so he still wore only the simple circlet of gold on his brow that he had in the past. Heaviest of all was the chain of engraved gold squares that proclaimed the glory of the Macedonian kingship. It was fastened to both of the pins that held his chiton in place and that more than anything made the situation feel more real.

"How are you holding up, lad?"

Alexander spun about, surprised to see Cleitus standing just within the door. He had not heard the other man enter, nor had he heard the servants leave.

"What has been done to Cassander and Philotas?" Alexander asked, knowing that Cleitus had been present at Antipater's meeting with the pair.

"The kingly ones have been given sentry duty," Cleitus smirked as he sauntered further into the room. "They will be guarding the gates tonight just like any other soldiers."

Even though he knew he should not take such joy from their punishment, Alexander could not help but smile. The punishment was not one that he would have chosen, but given Philotas and Cassander's superior attitudes it would work quite nicely. Hephaestion would certainly enjoy hearing about it.

"Your father would be proud of you," Cleitus said, fingering the plume of Philip's helmet where it rested on top of a chest. "He worried a great deal about your mother's influence over you when you were young, but you are living up to every one of his expectations. You will be a great king."

"I fear that will not come to pass if I lose Hephaestion," Alexander murmured, offering the general a melancholy smile. "He makes me strive to be better than I am."

Cleitus shook his head, crossing the room to place his hands on Alexander's shoulders. "There is no reason for such thoughts. Hephaestion did not survive Illyria only to find so ignoble a death. We may not know how yet, but Hephaestion will be cleared of these charges and once again be at your side."

Staring intently at Cleitus, Alexander could see that he meant the words. They were not said to placate him, but were a statement of truth as far as the older man was concerned. Alexander wished that he could be as confident. It frustrated him to no end that he could not simply free Hephaestion. He had Antipater and Cleitus' support in his desire to free Hephaestion, and was quite certain that Parmenion would agree that the whole affair was far too convenient for someone else not to have a hand in it. It was the army that was the most troublesome. They would see that whole affair as him simply freeing his lover and would protest it. Had his power been more established it would not have mattered; he would have simply weathered their discontent.

"Hephaestion has agreed to flee if I am unable to prove his innocence," Alexander told Cleitus. "It is a worst-case scenario, but I cannot risk his life. I need him with me in Asia. I would rather us land at Troy together, but I would rather he come later if that is all that can be done."

"I am amazed that you got Hephaestion to agree to that," Cleitus whistled. "I would have thought him far too stubborn for that."

"I think he is scared."

xxxxxxxxxx

Parmenion started at the letter in disbelief. Philip had been dead for nearly two weeks and Amyntor's boy, Hephaestion, was meant to be behind it. Parmenion wasn't sure which part he found more unbelievable. Hephaestion would never do anything that would place Alexander in jeopardy. He knew full well that Hephaestion had a dangerous temper, but he had always respected the king.

"Not the king anymore," Parmenion said quietly to himself, scratching his fingers roughly through his beard.

Of all the ways he had thought for Philip to meet his end, assassination at his daughter's wedding games had not been on the list. But then he would not have thought Philip to be fool enough to enter the theatre unprotected. Philip could be a damn fool when he chose to and while Parmenion may have joked that it would one day cost him his life, he had never thought it would actually come to that. Philip had always been so damned lucky, surviving things that would have killed lesser men.

There was a second letter, rolled tightly within the official one. It was from Alexander, written in boy's own hand.

_To General Parmenion, greetings from Alexander son of Philip._

_I know that you and my father were great friends and it grieves me that you were so far away when he was murdered. Be assured, though, that Pausanias and any of the other conspirators that have been unearthed are all dead. For expediency sake, Amyntas and Attalus will soon be dead as well, likely before you even receive this. Macedon needs to be secure before I bring the rest of the army across the Hellespont._

_It is my hope that you will support my kingship. You served my father loyally for so many years and while I admit that I am still young, I have been trained for this since birth. My father made certain of it. I can only hope that I will live up to his legacy._

_Health to you._

A year ago, Parmenion would have been wary of such a letter, wondering just how much had been written at his mother's prompting. Olympias was nothing if not conniving and Parmenion would not put it past her to have a hand in Philip's death. Even knowing that she was locked away in Pydna, he still believed her utterly capable of plotting her husband's murder.

Olympias was a far more likely candidate than Hephaestion.

Setting aside both scrolls, Parmenion heaved himself from his chair. The army needed to be told of their king's death. It was a task he was not relishing.

xxxxxxxxxx

_I have had enough of your foolishness, Alexander. Send for me now because I can only help you. No one will dare to cross you if they know it will mean contending with me. You have delayed long enough, my son, and without me you will not be able to consolidate your power._

Of all the things Hephaestion had expected to be given as reading material, a letter from Olympias had not been one of them. He had needed no further proof of her insanity, but after seeing her latest letter he almost felt pity for her.

"I cannot help but fear that she had a hand in my father's death," Alexander murmured as he slumped down next to Hephaestion. "She is far too confident, even for her."

Setting the letter aside, Hephaestion reached for Alexander, drawing him into his arms. "I wish that I could tell you she had nothing to do with it, but I have been thinking the same thing. Clever as she is, though, this is not something she could have planned alone. She would have required a great deal of help to successfully arrange Philip's murder."

"There is still the matter of that cursed letter," Alexander groaned, burrowing his face into Hephaestion's throat. "All of the search parties have come back without any sign of the other rider. He is probably in Persia by now, basking in the riches of whoever paid him to help murder my father."

"Best not to think about that now," Hephaestion murmured into his lover's bright hair.

"What else is there to think about? It has been over two weeks, Hephaestion."

Hephaestion snorted quietly, ducking his head down so that he could see Alexander's face. "Trust me, I know better than anyone how long I have been in here. I am the one going positively stir crazy."

Alexander smiled apologetically, lightly kissing Hephaestion's lips. "Too true. It is only that the days are incredibly long without you by my side. The nights are even longer."

Hephaestion returned the kiss, that one more lingering than the first. He rolled towards Alexander, pinning the smaller man beneath him. He just needed to feel Alexander's body against his own. It was hardly their bed in Alexander's apartments, but for the moment it was all they had. And given everything else going on, he was grateful for any chance to forget just what his life had become. That he was now a prisoner, accused of murdering his king.

Grim setting or no, when Hephaestion felt himself slip into Alexander's warmth he felt nothing but the peace and comfort that came with their couplings. He refused to hurry despite Alexander's gasped protests, taking his time to properly enjoy it all. He knew that Alexander would soon be leaving Aegae while his own fate was still up in the air.

"Gods, Phae...." Alexander moaned, arching into him. Whatever he said next was lost in a shuddering moan as Hephaestion angled his thrust to hit that pleasurable spot within him. Instead he sunk his fingers into Hephaestion's hair, drawing him down for a kiss that stole his breath and made his thrusts falter.

A sudden knock on the door caught them both off guard.

"Alexander, you are needed in the council."

Groaning, Hephaestion dropped his head down onto Alexander's shoulder.

"I'll be there... in a minute," Alexander gasped, arching his hips sharply.

No longer able to savour the coupling, the pair began moving in tandem to reach their climaxes. It was not the most satisfying of completions, but it was they allowed themselves a few moments to simply lay together in a tangle heap afterwards.

"I do not want to go," Alexander moaned against the side of his head.

Hephaestion sighed, forcing himself to roll away from his lover. He reached a hand towards Alexander, sinking his fingers into the rumpled blonde hair. "I do not want you to go."

"Alexander, they are waiting for you."


	16. Part XVI

**Part XVI**

"Athens has destroyed a tyrant," Demosthenes cheered before the gathered crowd. "That poor boy who was so cruelly mistreated by Philip's actions little more than a year ago was the mastermind behind the assassination at Aegae. The Fates have seen fit to punish him for all of his crimes against Greece in the form of Hephaestion Amyntoros. Such a valiant and brave boy to risk his own life to end the one of the man who has caused him nothing but grief. A monster who had nearly destroyed him and would have taken the rest of Greece with him. And thanks to this brave Athenian, we will no longer be cowed and forced to submit to those uncivilized sheep herders."

The crowd before him roared enthusiastically, fists pumping the air. There had finally been official word from Macedon confirming Philip's death and Aristotle was still finding it hard to believe. Not that a king could be murdered, but that Hephaestion would have anything to do with it. Hephaestion who had always respected Philip, even after what had happened in Illyria.

".... young Hephaestion was foolish enough to commit his intentions to parchment and is now being held awaiting punishment...."

Immediately, Aristotle began to weave his way through the crowd, intent on getting back to his study. It had puzzled endlessly why such a small fragment of the letter from Hephaestion should have been taken. The few lines missing, from what could be inferred by reading the preceding lines, were about the daily trivialities of life at Pella.

The existence of a letter supposedly written in Hephaestion's hand and the missing section of a letter actually composed by the young Athenian was not proof positive that Hephaestion was innocent of this crime. However, it would certainly do no harm to make Alexander aware of his discoveries.

xxxxxxxxx

He was fairly certain that his nose had healed slightly off kilter. He had no way to check for certain, but it certainly no longer felt as straight as it had before. It was of no real consequence to him, but Alexander had fussed a great deal those first few days when his eyes had been swollen purple and his nose was at least three times its normal size. The swelling had gone down entirely over the past three weeks and, except for a slight green tinge under his eyes, so had the bruising.

"Kitchen boy here," Perdiccas chirped as he opened the cell door.

Alexander and the rest had left for the north to deal with some rebelling tribes a few days before, but Perdiccas had volunteered to stay behind. Hephaestion had tried to insist that there was no need for him to do so, but Perdiccas would hear nothing of it, claiming that Hephaestion could not be trusted to look after himself.

"So you have finally found a position that suits you," Hephaestion grinned, setting aside the play that he had been reading.

Perdiccas scowled briefly, his eyes twinkling. "Keep this up and I will eat the meal myself. You are eating better than we are in the mess so it would serve you right if I did eat this."

"Have a seat and join me," Hephaestion offered as he took the tray from Perdiccas. "There is no need for me to eat so much food when I will be stuck in this room all day."

Even though Perdiccas sat with him on the floor, he did not do much more than pick at the offered food. Hephaestion himself was not very hungry, but was instead more eager to hear any news of what was happening outside his cell.

"A messenger arrived earlier this afternoon. Apparently Aristotle is on his way here from Athens," Perdiccas revealed as he popped an olive into his mouth.

"Aristotle? Why is he coming?" Hephaestion demanded, not entirely certain that he had heard his friend correctly.

Perdiccas merely shrugged. "That I do not know."

xxxxxxxxx

Alexander scrubbed his hands over his face as he slumped down onto his narrow camp bed. Night had fallen which meant an end to the activities which kept his mind occupied throughout the day. It was easy enough to keep himself distracted during the day, but at night his mind was free to wander and where it wandered most of often was to Hephaestion. Philotas and Cassander were with him in Illyria, but Alexander was not naïve enough to think they were the end of Hephaestion's enemies.

The only consolation he had was knowing that Perdiccas was doing what he could to keep Hephaestion safe. He trusts Perdiccas to do what he can to ensure that Hephaestion is still alive when he is finally able to return to Aegae.

"_If the worst should happen and he is in serious danger, I want the two of you to leave Macedon," Alexander instructed Perdiccas the night before his departure. "It is better if I do not immediately know where you are going. Once things have settled down you can send word, but it is better if things are kept quiet in the beginning."_

"_You know that Hephaestion will want to follow after you. Go to Illyria," Perdiccas told him, leaning against the arch that led out to the balcony. "It will not matter what happened in the past, he will go regardless."_

_Sighing, Alexander poured wine for both him and Perdiccas. "Which is why I need you to take him somewhere south. His father mentioned an uncle living in Argos; take him there. Just not to Illyria."_

"_This is Hephaestion we are speaking about," Perdiccas snorted, accepting the cup of wine from Alexander. "You are both so utterly pig-headed where each other is concerned."_

"_That is a touch drastic, do you not think?"_

_Perdiccas merely arched an eyebrow, his lips quirking slightly._

"_Even so, do what you can to keep him from going to Illyria. He will not be safe there."_

"_Because you are such a stalwart supporter of safe behaviour."_

Though Perdiccas had not specifically promised that he would keep Hephaestion out of Illyria, he had given his word that he would do his best. Given the state of things there really was not more that he could ask for.

Rising stiffly to his feet, Alexander began to strip off his armour. He had pages who would willingly do the job, but he had sent them all away. He was exhausted from the day's fighting and the stresses that came with leading an entire army. He could not remember feeling so drained when he had led the campaign against the Maedi. That had been an adventure. This time he was securing his own borders so that Macedon would be safe when he left for Persia. He was taking most of the army with him on the Persian campaign so he had to ensure that the northern tribes would keep in line while he was away. Alexander would not ruin all that his father had built.

Easing out of his breastplate, Alexander set it aside on a nearby chest, his grieves joining it a few moments later. His chiton he merely cast aside, leaving him dressed only in his muddy cavalry boots. Those he could not find the motivation to remove. He scrubbed his hands through his hair as he paced the Spartan confines of his tent. His mind was restless and, as a result, so was his body. Alexander found himself utterly unable to sit still or even to lie down on his bed. It was an aggravating sensation quite at odds with his desire to sleep.

So instead he did what he could to distract himself. He went over maps and battle plans that did not need more attention, drinking absently from the jug of wine one of his pages had left behind. In the end, he was able to find solace in his well read copy of the _Illiad._ Soon enough, he and Hephaestion would be able to live out the tales they stove to live up to for so long. Legends that they were still striving to live up to.

There were times that he felt Hephaestion had done a far better job of living up to that model than he had. Even when they had said their goodbyes in that dim prison cell, Hephaestion had been stoic as ever. He was willing to face his future with the utmost calm and certainty, no matter how dire. In the face of such conviction, Alexander had been unable to do anything but remain stoic as well.

It was nearly dawn before Alexander's eyes began to drift shut. They would be moving on by midmorning and hoped that he would at least be able to get a few hours of sleep before once again taking control of his army.

"May the gods guard you, Hephaestion," Alexander murmured as he settled down to sleep.

xxxxxxxxx

"This is hardly how I expected our next meeting to go," Aristotle said as he entered the cell, taking in its rather bleak interior. "This goes beyond even Spartan reserve."

Hephaestion grinned at his former tutor. "Unfortunately, until either my innocence can be proven or Alexander returns for a trial, this will be my home."

"So that is why I was greeted by General Antipater and not Macedon's new monarch. For such a severe crime, the king is necessary to preside over the trial," Aristotle mused, mostly to himself. It had been a regular occurrence when the philosopher was educating them at Mieza. More than once, Aristotle had broken off in the middle of a lecture, talking mostly to himself about something that none of them could quite follow. They had always enjoyed those days because it meant their lessons were concluded early since it was very difficult to learn when your instructor was off in his own world.

It was only a few minutes before Aristotle returned to the main purpose for his visit.

"It is my understanding that a letter composed in your hand is the main source of evidence against you."

"A letter that I did not write," Hephaestion clarified, scratching idly at the corner of his jaw. "Unfortunately, I do not have a way of proving such a thing."

"Now really, my dear boy, have things changed so much in the past four years that you are no longer able to argue your point as well as you did when I instructed you?" Aristotle chastised, his fond smile taking any heat from his words. "Had you returned to Athens instead of remaining here in Macedon, you could have easily become quite a thorn in that old hack Demosthenes' side. I would have quite enjoyed seeing that."

Hephaestion shared the older man's smile. "Enjoyable as that would be, my place is with Alexander."

"As it should be," Aristotle agreed, placing a warm hand on Hephaestion's shoulder. "I can think of no better place for you than at Alexander's side. Hence the reason for my visit. Letters."

"Letters," Hephaestion echoed, staring at the older man in confusion. "What letters?"

"To be precise, a letter from you," Aristotle revealed, reaching into his pouch to produce a scroll which had quite obviously seen better times. I could not help but notice how coincidental it was that just as you are accused of plotting King Philip's death that a section of a letter written in your hand should go missing."

"A letter from me? In my hand?"

Aristotle grinned broadly, handing over the letter for Hephaestion's inspection. "I am relieved to see that a lengthy imprisonment has not dulled your mind. That would have been an incredible shame."

Hephaestion barely heard the philosopher's words, his mind instead reeling with the fact that there was now proof that he had not been involved in plotting Philip's death. It was not the most concrete of evidence, but it was far more than had existed only a short while before. Better still, he remembered writing the letter earlier in the year and knew that there were at least three lines missing from the parchment that he now held in his hands. There had been nothing monumental written in those lines, but their absence was not something that could be overlooked.

"How could you have known?" Hephaestion asked, dumbfounded by the appearance of something that could lead to his freedom.

"Demosthenes enjoys the sound of his own voice perhaps a bit too much."

A wide grin on his face, Hephaestion enveloped the other man in a tight embrace. For the first time since his arrest, Hephaestion felt hopeful about his situation. He may not have to run, may not have to disgrace his family. He could be with Alexander when he landed at Troy, partaking in the dream they had shared since they were boys.

"Now, my dear boy, we will have to continue this conversation at a later time," Aristotle said, breaking the embrace. "I am meant to speak with General Antipater in a brief while. With luck, by nightfall you will be free of this prison."

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He had tried throughout the entire journey to gain possession of the letter, but the old man had kept it on his person the entire time. Even while bathing he had been unable to ferret the cursed thing away from his uncle. He had not expected his uncle to take such caution with a mere scrap of paper, no matter its importance. And without that letter they would finally be rid of Hephaestion Amyntoros and his ability to keep the young hothead under control.

_It was impossible to tell just who had begun to brawl, but suddenly the entire room was filled with the sound of shouted accusations. At the center of it was the young Macedonian prince, emissary for his father. At the moment he was too far away to hear what exactly the argument was about, but the young prince had obviously taken offence to something. He hoped that it would come to that; show the rest of Athens just how barbarous the Macedonians were._

_Another boy sidled up to the prince, leaning in close to whisper something in his ear. He had Alexander's immediate attention. He stopped what he was doing, all of the anger fading from his features. _

"_Amyntor's boy has done well for himself."_

_He turned to his friend Glaucus who had spoken. "General Amyntor's? The boy's Athenian? What on earth is he doing with those uncouth Macedonians?"_

"_If the rumours are true he is the Macedonian brat's beloved."_

"_An Athenian would actually lower himself like that?"_

"_Quite frequently apparently."_

Before that night no one had given Hephaestion Amyntoros much consideration. Placed where he was in the prince's inner circle and with the obvious affect he had on the other youth's moods, he was in the perfect position to create great havoc should they find a way to utilize him.

And they had.

It had taken a few years, but provided he could get the letter away from his uncle, Hephaestion Amyntoros would be instrumental in bringing down the Macedonian royal house.

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It certainly had not taken Alexander long to act. Barely a month since Philip's death and already all of the serious threats to his succession had been removed. Attalus and Amyntas, naturally, as well as a handful of other relations with a possible claim to the throne. There was certainly no doubting that he had his father's drive to rule. And according to the messenger who had arrived this morning, the young king was already heading north to deal with uprisings among the northern tribes.

Given all that could have gone wrong and the disasters that could have arose when Alexander took the throne, the boy was doing remarkably well. Rebellions in the north would have been unavoidable regardless of how Alexander had taken the throne. Or even if it had been someone else taking the throne. Antipater could not help but wonder just how much of Alexander's fervour in battling the Illyrians had to do with Hephaestion. It would certainly explain his haste in declaring war on them when it could have waited at least a few months; longer perhaps.

"Sir, Aristotle is here for you," one of the guards said, appearing at the door. "He says that it is quite urgent."

Antipater nodded his head absently, quickly scanning a report from Parmenion that he would go over with more detail later. He had not quite finished when Aristotle hurried in, parchment held out towards him.

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Hephaestion looked up when the door to his cell was flung open with a flourish. Perdiccas and Seleucus stood on the other side, both grinning broadly at him. Hephaestion tipped his head back, his eyes falling shut.

"Come on, man, time for you to come out and see the sun once again," Seleucus enthused, coming forward to clap him on the shoulder. "You look positively sickly."

"It is a joy to see you as well," Hephaestion chuckled as he was pulled into an exuberant embrace by Perdiccas.

"You are a free man again. This is a night to celebrate."


	17. Part XVII

**Part XVII**

"For the record, I would like to state that this is a very bad idea."

Hephaestion smirked in Perdiccas' direction. "I have been out of action long enough. I should have been with Alexander from the beginning."

"I am not denying that, but surely there are better courses of action," he continued to protest. "Illyria is not the safest place and yet here we are, wandering through it on our own. You do realize that Alexander will fillet me for this. He did not want you coming to Illyria."

Guiding Xanthus around a root growing in the middle of the road, Hephaestion shook his head. "Had I been free when this began I would have gone with him."

"That is hardly the point," Perdiccas groused as he uncorked a wineskin. He took a healthy swig from it before passing it to Hephaestion. "Alexander did not want you going to Illyria. Hell, he made me promise to keep you out."

Hephaestion snorted and took a deep swig of wine before tossing it to Seleucus. "He should have known better than that. I am not going to keep out just because he is feeling protective."

"After what happened the last time we were in Illyria, can you blame him? Zeus' cock, man, even I would rather never set foot in that cursed country again."

Hephaestion was silent for a time, staring forward at the distant horizon where Alexander was busy securing his borders. Perdiccas himself was desperate to see action, but knew that his own emotions paled in comparison to Alexander and Hephaestion's where Illyria was concerned. Hephaestion had nearly taken his own life and Perdiccas had no doubt that Alexander would have followed after him if he had succeeded.

Since they had left Aegae, Perdiccas had been keeping watch for any signs of stress or strain in Hephaestion and had yet to see any evidence of either. It was only exhaustion that he could find any hint of. And considering how hard the three of them were pushing themselves, it was not a stretch. Perdiccas himself wouldn't have minded stopping early for the day, but knew that if he suggested it, Hephaestion would continue on his own. They had met a messenger on his way to deliver reports to Antipater and knew that they were roughly a day and a half from Alexander's encampment. Close enough that Hephaestion would have no qualms about continuing on alone.

"How about making camp at the ridge over there?" Seleucus suggested, pointing with t wineskin to an outcropping that was at least a few hours' ride away.

Perdiccas kept silent while Hephaestion battled with his decision. In the end, though, he nodded his assent, if a little stiffly.

"We leave at daybreak," he added, features tight.

Had it been up to Hephaestion, Perdiccas was certain that they would not have stopped at all.

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He had to check twice before he could believe what he was seeing. When he was certain that his eyes were not playing tricks on him, Leonnatus could not contain the excited whoop of laughter that burst from him.

"Are we harbouring fugitives now?" he chuckled, reaching up to tug Hephaestion down off his horse. He pulled him into a tight hug. "What are you doing here?"

Hephaestion returned the embrace wholeheartedly, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. "I decided to try my hand at being a messenger."

Moving onto Perdiccas and Seleucus, he embraced them as well. 'No doubt one who requires a private meeting with the king."

"Provided, of course, the king is free," Hephaestion said casually, though his eyes were sparkling. The lovers had only been apart for a few weeks, but it was just as easy to see the strain of it on Hephaestion as it had been on Alexander.

"Last I saw of him, he was going over reports," Leonnatus told him, nodding in the direction of Alexander's tent. "He should be alone for another hour at least. More if your message proves truly urgent."

Hephaestion's grin was wide as could be, clapping Leonnatus on the shoulder as he made his way towards Alexander's tent. It was a calm day, relatively speaking, which was a good thing seeing as he doubted anyone would see either man for the rest of the day. They certainly deserved a little time to themselves given all that they had endured over the past few months.

"So does someone care to tell me what exactly is going on?"

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Hephaestion paused before the entrance of the tent, finding it almost surreal that he was about to enter the king's tent and find, not Philip inside, but Alexander. That in the few months they had been apart, Alexander had become king not only in name, but in action as well. So much had changed in the past few months and Hephaestion was no longer quite certain where he fit in it all.

Sucking in a deep breath, Hephaestion lifted the flap of the tent and strode inside. Even in the gloom, he spotted Alexander immediately. Rather than going over reports as Leonnatus had said, Macedon's new king had fallen asleep at his desk. It was not a surprising sight. He had walked in to find Alexander slumped over some scroll countless times during their long friendship. This time, however, there were lines near Alexander's eyes and mouth that had not been there in the past.

Crossing the room silently, Hephaestion knelt next to his sleeping love and gently stroked his fingers through the rumpled blonde hair. Alexander murmured something completely unintelligible, turning his head into the hand stroking his hair.

"Wake up, Xand," Hephaestion murmured as he massaged his fingertips against Alexander's scalp. "I did not come all the way to Illyria simply to watch you sleep."

There was another wordless murmur and then Alexander slowly blinked his eyes open. His brows furrowed in confusion, but then Hephaestion found himself with his arms full as Alexander launched himself off the chair. Hephaestion immediately wound his arms about his lover, holding him tight, even as he was toppled backwards by the force of Alexander's embrace.

"Tell me this is not some hallucination," Alexander moaned into his throat. "Tell me that you are really here."

"I am really here," Hephaestion promised him, pressing a kiss to Alexander's unruly hair.

Unable to release his hold on Alexander, Hephaestion used his nose to nudge the other man's face up. He was able to kiss first Alexander's cheek, then the corner of his mouth, and then finally he was able to taste those lips that he had missed like nothing else. He moaned at the feel of them against his own, reaching up to clasp Alexander's face between his palms.

It was all very desperate, both of them lacking any finesse as they struggled to disrobe and feel the blissful friction of skin on skin. Hephaestion ended up half tangled in his chiton, but did not care. Alexander was in an equally disarrayed state. And he was warm and alive and no longer just a spirit haunting his dreams.

Hephaestion's body arched, a gasp escaping his lips as Alexander thrust into him. There had been little preparation beyond a quick stretching of spit-slicked fingers and he felt every inch of his lover filling him. He felt spitted, utterly gored, and continued to arch into Alexander's frantic thrusts. They were both too primed for the coupling to last long, so neither felt the least bit ashamed when they came after only a few minutes.

"Was not expecting that," Alexander gasped against Hephaestion's shoulder. "Did I hurt you?"

Hephaestion grunted, shifting slightly as Alexander's member slid from his body. "Nothing that I will regret in the morning." He grinned then and pressed a kiss to the sensitive bit of flesh under Alexander's ear, enjoying the feel of his lover's full-body shudder that followed.

Hephaestion was fairly certain that the only reason his heart had not burst from his chest was because Alexander was lying on top of him, his weight holding it in. They were both flushed, their skin damp with sweat, and Hephaestion felt more alive than he had in months.

"How?"

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Alexander knew that he would never be able to thank Aristotle enough for what he had done. His former tutor had done what Alexander had begun to fear was impossible; freeing Hephaestion without making him a fugitive. Hephaestion had been able to maintain his honour and he would be able to retake his captainship without any stain on either of their reputations. It had been a false accusation, though he knew Hephaestion's detractors would not cease to plague him.

Hephaestion had fallen asleep a short while ago and though he felt tired himself, he could not seem to close his eyes. He laid on his side next to Hephaestion, stroking his fingers over his lover's skin. Hephaestion was relaxed as could be, his arms wrapped loosely around Alexander's middle.

In the candlelight it is easy to see the changes that Hephaestion had undergone during his months of imprisonment. He was thinner than before and his skin was ruddy, nearly burned after so long spent out of the sun. There were dark circles under his eyes, but Alexander was certain that had more to do with his rush north than his imprisonment. Knowing Hephaestion as he did, the older man likely would have pushed Perdiccas and Seleucus as hard as they would let him.

"If I had known that you would be staring at me the whole while I would have insisted on having my own tent," Hephaestion grumbled, leaning in closer to Alexander. He did not open his eyes, but tightened his grip around his waist. "You should sleep, Alexander. You will be no good to anyone if you are exhausted."

"I just cannot believe that you are here," Alexander sighed against the top of Hephaestion's head. "I had almost given up hope that you would be able to join me before we left for Persia."

"Then why were you trying to insist that I stay away from Illyria?" Hephaestion yawned, pressing his face against Alexander's throat.

Alexander hugged Hephaestion tightly. "I hate the idea of you being here. After what was done to you before, I want to keep you far from here. I would not be here myself except that it is necessary. I need to secure the borders so that I have a kingdom to return to once we have destroyed the Persians."

"You worry for nothing, Xand," Hephaestion murmured, kissing his neck. "This is a minor campaign to what will come in the future. Cleaning house, if you will."

"I do not think I have ever heard it put like that," Alexander snorted then pressed a kiss to Hephaestion's forehead.

"Does not make it any less true."

Hephaestion was utterly exhausted so Alexander kept quiet, hoping that he would fall back to sleep. Alexander knew that he should sleep as well, but he preferred to watch Hephaestion as he slept. It had been so long since he had indulged in that particular pursuit that he could not deny himself. Sure enough, after a few minutes, Hephaestion's breathing deepened and his body relaxed.

"Sleep well, my love," Alexander whispered into Hephaestion's hair.

Hephaestion shifted slightly in his sleep, mumbling something that Alexander could not quite make out. For a moment, Alexander thought that he would wake, but Hephaestion merely sighed and drifted back off to sleep. Yawning, Alexander settled himself down on the pillow. In the morning when he woke, Hephaestion would be by his side. He would have Hephaestion's support, even if his lover did not always agree with his plans. Publicly, Hephaestion would offer unwavering support while waiting until they were in private to argue with him about those same policies.

That was one of the things he had missed most about Hephaestion's absence. While his generals would tell him when they thought he was making a tactical mistake, very little was said after the initial objection. Hephaestion, on the other hand, would argue with him until they were both hoarse. He had always been the only one who had never let Alexander win an argument simply because he was the prince. Now that he was king, Alexander was depending on Hephaestion to keep him in check. He needed someone who would argue with him and make him think things through.

Yawning, Alexander burrowed deeper into Hephaestion's embrace. He inhaled deeply, finally relaxing enough to sleep.

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Hephaestion awoke with a yawn. It took him a moment to orient himself, but when he did he could not stop the smile that spread across his face. Alexander was wrapped around him like a limpet and he only held on tighter when Hephaestion tried to wriggle free. Pressing a kiss to Alexander's forehead, Hephaestion carefully loosened Alexander's arms from about his middle and slid off the camp bed. As much as he loved being back with Alexander, after so long spent on a horse, he needed a chance to walk around and stretch all sorts of cramped, uncomfortable muscles. If he did not make it back before Alexander awoke, he would make it up to his lover for any worry he inadvertently caused him.

"Did not expect to see you up and about so soon," Leonnatus chuckled as Hephaestion wandered idly between the tents. "I am rather surprised that Alexander does not have you chained to a post in the center of his tent to keep you from wandering off."

"If he even tries to make me share lodgings with that damned dog of his he will find himself missing certain pieces of his anatomy," Hephaestion growled, his grin feral.

Leonnatus snorted in response, shaking his head briefly. "And here I was thinking the two of you would be happy to be reunited."

Hephaestion's answering smile was broad and left nothing in doubt.

The two men wandered about the pre-dawn camp, Hephaestion eager for any information about the war so far. Perdiccas and Seleucus had kept him up to date while he was still a prisoner, but even that information had been old by the time it reached his ears. Now he was once again in the midst of it and he wanted to be certain that nothing had been missing from the reports he had received in Aegae. He would be of no help to Alexander if he was not properly informed.

"Do they have any idea who was responsible for Philip's murder?" Leonnatus inquired once he had finished his tale.

At that, Hephaestion frowned, shaking his head. "Sadly nothing yet. They have been unable to track the one who got away that day. Not for lack of trying, mind you. Whoever it was, the man's allies are keeping him well hidden."

"The bastard is probably in Babylon by now," Leonnatus grumbled as he side-stepped a tent peg that was sticking up in his path.

"Then it is a good thing we are headed there ourselves. We will find him there and Alexander can exact his vengeance."

The man himself appeared then, his eyes immediately finding Hephaestion. Even from a distance, Hephaestion could see the relief written on his features. He had hoped Alexander would sleep for awhile yet and not notice his absence. Hephaestion's plan had been to return with a light meal and wake Alexander slowly, keeping him distracted until duty called them from the tent.

"I will catch up with you later," Leonnatus murmured, nodding to Alexander before wandering back the way he and Hephaestion had come.

"You were supposed to still be asleep," Hephaestion said once Alexander was close enough. "You are rarely up this early in the day."

Alexander reached up, cupping Hephaestion's cheek briefly then nodded for his lover to follow him. "For once I had a good night's sleep. Or I did until I woke up alone in bed."

"I needed to walk about a bit," Hephaestion said as he fell in step alongside Alexander, matching his stride to his lover's. "I had not thought to be gone so long, but Leonnatus and I got to talking. I still feel so cut off from everything."

"Soon, that will end. Soon you will know just as much as I do. I will make sure of it," Alexander promised him, inclining his head to a group of soldiers who had saluted them. "I cannot make it so publicly yet, but know that in my mind you are my second-in-command. I trust your judgement far more than I do many of my generals because you will argue with me. You will make me see sense while they would simply let me have my way because I am king."

Hephaestion snorted, shaking his head briefly. "You forget that most of these men have known you since you were in swaddling. I do not think they will have much trouble putting you in your place regardless of your brilliance on the field."

Alexander glowered at him, the look losing some of its heat when the corners of Alexander's lips continued to twitch.


	18. Part XVIII Epilogue

**Part XVIII – Epilogue – 331 BC**

Babylon was nothing like he had expected. It felt like a dream. The others were scattered about the massive palace, celebrating in groups or alone with a selected partner. He and Alexander had begged away early, disappearing into the royal apartments to have their own private celebration. The Persian Empire was theirs even if Darius still lived. For all intents, Alexander was the king; the ruler of Macedon, Greece and Persia. Yet as Alexander stared out at the vast expanse of the city, he could still see brief glimpses of the boy he had known so long ago. That joy and that look of wonder was still as much a part of Alexander as it had been when they were boys at Mieza.

"It is like you have not changed at all," Hephaestion murmured, handing Alexander a cup of wine. "You are still doing it: cocking your head like a deer listening in the wind."

Alexander's cheeks flushed, self-conscious, smacking Hephaestion lightly on the arm. "I stopped that a long time ago."

"You may think you have...."

"As much as you would like to think you have, just a moment ago you had your head cocked to the side." Hephaestion kept his words quiet, reaching up to cup Alexander's cheek in his palm. "It reminds me of the boy you once were. The one who set out to rival Achilles and is now outdoing him."

Alexander leaned into Hephaestion's touch. "I have only done so much because I have you by my side."

"You would still be great without me," Hephaestion protested gently. "I may help a bit, it is something within you that has brought us to this point."

"It is the both of us," Alexander continued to insist. "Have you already forgotten what I told Sisygambis? You are Alexander, too. If I thought for one moment that I could get away with it, I would name you as my consort. Maybe in Egypt they would allow it. Pharaohs are revered as gods there and I cannot see them denying a god his greatest wish."

Chuckling quietly, Hephaestion could only shake his head in amusement. "The common soldiers might believe those grand tales of you being the son of Zeus, but you and I know better. You are no more the son of Zeus than I am the offspring of Poseidon."

"It is not entirely impossible," Alexander hedged, grinning too broadly for Hephaestion to take his words seriously. "Your eyes are as telling as the ocean."

Hephaestion snorted quietly and playfully snatched Alexander's wine cup from his hand. "You have had entirely too much of that."

Alexander immediately snatched his wine back, rolling his eyes. "Simply because you do not wish to hear it, does not make it any less true. I have watched your eyes in all sorts of moods and they are certainly as changing as the seas. It is a good indicator of whether I will win an argument or no."

"And what are my eyes telling you now?"

"That I had best quit now or I may very well find myself tied to the bed posts," Alexander murmured, his eyes twinkling in the dim light.

Raising his goblet to his lips, Hephaestion could not contain a grin. "You say that like you would not enjoy it."

"The wine has made you quite bold."

"And I suppose you will try to tell me that it is the sun which has your cheeks flushed," Hephaestion smirked. "The sun which set well over an hour ago."

It was the first time in days that he and Alexander had been able to spend any time alone together. All of the pomp and ceremony that came with being Great King had demanded a great deal of Alexander's attention. Hephaestion merely found it amusing, the same as he had in Egypt when Alexander was positioned about like a child's doll while statues were made of him. For all of the respect and awe that was given to him as their king, when it came time for Eastern ceremony, Alexander was their puppet.

"Sometimes I wish that we could just ride off on our own," Alexander sighed, setting his cup down on the wide ledge of the balcony rail. "Get Bucephalas and Xanthus and ride far away from here. Without all of the baggage, all of the pomp. Just the two of us."

Smiling fondly, Hephaestion set aside his own wine. "You are becoming quite maudlin. Should I be concerned?"

Leaning his hip against the rail, Alexander picked the goblet up again and downed it all in a single gulp. "I received a letter today. From Antipater."

"There is nothing unusual about that," Hephaestion pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

"This one was to tell me that my mother is dead," Alexander said solemnly. "He says that it was one of her snakes, but...."

"Your mother is not the type of woman to have an accident with her snakes," Hephaestion finished for him. "Do you suspect foul play?"

"I do not even know if I care," Alexander admitted, his expression looking almost shocked.

Placing his hand on Alexander's arm, Hephaestion waited until he had his lover's attention before speaking. "For what it is worth, I am relieved to know that she is dead. You will finally be free of her. She can never try to poison your mind again."

"It has been years since she has been able to do that," Alexander insisted, leaning forward so that his forehead rested again Hephaestion's. "Nothing that she has ever said or done has been able to touch what we have."

Hephaestion kept silent about the rift that had slowly been growing between them. It was not an intentional one, necessity often forcing them apart for weeks at a time. He had always known that such a thing would happen, but had still hoped to avoid it. The simple truth was that one day Alexander would have to marry. Whether for political reasons or any other reason, Alexander would choose a girl to be his wife. A girl who would bear Alexander's sons; heirs to the empire he was creating.

And while he had every intention of standing aside when the time came, at that moment Alexander was still his.

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It was only in the past few years that he had finally understood why it was his father sought out pleasure wherever he could. There was so little time for it after all of the business of kingship. There were some days Alexander thought he would go mad from it all. He would be at loose ends, drowning in it all, until he would glance over and see Hephaestion busy at his own work. He would only need to watch him, see the movements of his arms and shoulders, the tilt of his head, and it would be like raising his head above the surface of the water after so long under.

It made things so much for difficult when circumstances forced him and Hephaestion apart. For the first day or so it was as though he was walking around without his center. It became easier with time, but Alexander still preferred to have Hephaestion near if at all possible because he knew that Hephaestion would always give him the truth. Hephaestion would argue something with him until Alexander was ready to strangle his beloved friend if only he would stop. Hephaestion had won many arguments simply because Alexander decided to concede the point rather than continue matching wits with the other man.

"You have been at this desk far too long," Hephaestion murmured as he came up behind Alexander. He wound his arms around Alexander's torso, pressing a kiss to his throat.

Alexander leaned back into Hephaestion's embrace, sighing deeply. He was utterly exhausted, but there was so much work that needed to be done before they left Babylon. It would have been easy enough to pass the work on to someone else, but he wanted to keep everything under his own purview. Hephaestion called him a perfectionist and warned that he would wear himself out before he turned thirty, and was often out to distract him when he spent too much time at his work.

"This is supposed to be a chance for us to relax," his lover reminded him. "You have given the army leave to enjoy themselves so it is only fair that you allow yourself the same."

Alexander fumbled for a reason as to why he should not be allowed the same privilege as the army, but could find no excuse that he knew Hephaestion would allow him. So instead he allowed himself to be drawn away from his desk and into the bathing chamber that was entirely too hedonistic. Alexander had never seen anything like it before arriving in Babylon, but he and Hephaestion had spent some wonderful nights enjoying it.

"You are becoming a hedonist, love," Alexander murmured against Hephaestion's lips.

Hephaestion chuckled quietly, but did not pull away. "I am simply embracing the culture of your new kingdom."

"Our new kingdom," Alexander corrected him, taking Hephaestion by the hand and leading him deeper into the bathing room. "This is as much your kingdom as it is mine. I would not have been able to do as much as I have without you."

"You are not going to start this again, are you?" Hephaestion groaned as he allowed himself to be pulled along.

Stopping abruptly, Alexander turned on his heel so that he was face to face with Hephaestion. "Until I can get it through your thick skull that I would not have been able to do half of what I have without you, I will not relent. I wish that you could have a better opinion of your value to this army. If nothing else they have you to thank for the fact that they are continually fed."

"You know as well as I do that they only care that there _iis/i_ food. It doesn't matter to them where it comes from," Hephaestion reminded him as he pushed the robe from Alexander's shoulders. Since Issus, when they had captured Darius' belongings, Alexander had been experimenting with wearing Persian garb. And though it was unusual, Alexander could not say that he minded the baggy pants. Especially not when they were worn by Hephaestion. Combined with his lover's naked chest it was really quite entrancing.

For the time being, though, these were clothes that he and Hephaestion wore only in private. For the most part, the army had no desire to do anything other than dominate the Persians. The very thought of a Greek dressing in Persian garb was laughable to them. The Persian Empire was looked at with contempt despite being far older than their own. Alexander could understand the reasons for it, but that did not mean he approved. It was his hope that one day he could combine the cultures and that Persian and Greek alike could live together in peace.

"You have wandered off again," Hephaestion teased, fingering the medallion Alexander had not taken off since his lover had put it on him five years ago. "The water will go cold if you keep up at this rate."

Ducking his head down briefly, Alexander chuckled then reached up to slide his fingers through Hephaestion's hair. "Sometimes my head gets so full that I think I will never rest."

"Let us hope that it never comes to that," Hephaestion murmured, leaning in close so that as he spoke, his lips brushed against Alexander's. "I would hate for you to wear yourself out too soon. How would we ever live to be old men if you wear yourself out before you reach thirty?"

"So long as I have you to keep me in line, I will endeavour to care for myself." Still so close to Hephaestion, their breath mingled as he spoke. "So long as you will allow me to do the same. Do not think for one moment that I do not know how many late nights you have spent at your own work."

"And on those nights you are more than welcome to interrupt me. Just as I have done this night."

Alexander could not help grinning broadly at Hephaestion's cheerful proclamation. He certainly would not protest Hephaestion doing what he could to distract him. He had always enjoyed Hephaestion's distractions, even when they had gotten him into trouble when he was a boy.

"Come, it is as you said, we had best get in before the water cools," Alexander encouraged, reaching up to push Hephaestion's robe from his shoulders.

xxxxxxxxxx

They began on opposite sides of the massive tub, facing each other, their legs tangled together. Despite having undressed one another, neither made any move to continue the seduction and instead found themselves talking about the most mundane things; the same as they would have at dinner. There was even a tray of fresh fruits and watered wine sitting right at the edge of the tub, within easy reach of both men.

At first they munched on the fruit casually, neither one seeming to pay much attention to what they were eating. Until Hephaestion picked up a cubed bit of melon and drifted towards Alexander. Alexander moved forward as well, opening his mouth so that Hephaestion could slip the juicy piece of fruit between his lips. When Hephaestion would have pulled his hand away, Alexander closed his lips over the digits, drawing them further into his mouth. Hephaestion's deep chuckled echoed throughout the room and he slid still closer so that he was practically in Alexander's lap.

Hephaestion rose up onto his knees, forcing Alexander to tilt his head back as their lips met in a searching kiss. He sunk his wet fingers into Alexander's hair, mussing up the usually unruly locks even further. Alexander's hands were on Hephaestion's hips, guiding the other man still closer. It looked as though they were attempting to crawl into one another's skin.

The kiss continued until one of them made a wrong move and Alexander ended up completely submerged in the water. Even as he hauled Alexander back above the surface, Hephaestion was laughing uproariously, earning him a punch to the shoulder from the sodden monarch.

"I think we had best get out before one of us drowns," Hephaestion suggested, the words nearly lost amidst his laughter. The laughter became a startled yelp as Alexander pinched his thigh when he climbed out of the tub.

"Do you not know that it is unwise to mock your king?" Alexander asked as he clambered to his feet. His regal bearing was ruined somewhat by the whorl of hair that stuck up straight at the side of his head.

Hephaestion noticed it immediately, his laughter echoing throughout the large room. The general's amusement only increased when Alexander tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Sometimes I do not know why I put up with you," Alexander grumbled as he reached for a towel to dry himself. Any malice the comment might have held was lost in the wide smile he offered Hephaestion.

"You put up with me? I always thought it was the other way round."

Alexander made a shocked sound before promptly laughing once again.

"Maybe I will leave you here in Babylon while I head off to have the real adventure," Alexander threatened as they moved through to the bed chamber.

"I would like to see you try and keep your army fed without me to deal with all that cursed paperwork. The army would go hungry and refuse to continue. No matter how much they love you."

Alexander sobered immediately, placing a hand on Hephaestion's arm to stop his advance. "Am I making a mistake? Should I continue to hunt Darius and the rest or be content with having avenged Greece's honour?"

"You know I cannot answer that question for you," Hephaestion said quietly as he stroked that stray whorl into some semblance of order with the rest of Alexander's hair. "You have done what you set out to do—Persia has paid for her crimes against Greece. What comes next is up to you. Know that I will always support you, no matter what you decide."

"But what would you do?"

Hephaestion chuckled quietly. "Had it been up to me we would not have even left Macedon. You have dreams and ambitions like no other, Alexander, and I do not doubt that you could change the entire world if you put your mind to it. It is not in you to sit idle or to settle for anything but the best. You make all of us want to be the best and achieve more than we would if left to our own devices. All of the men would follow you into Hades itself, but I am afraid that you would have to deal with Seleucus' grumbling the entire way."

Alexander snorted in amusement, placing both of his hands on Hephaestion's bare hips. "I would be sure to place him in your regiment then."

"Fiend," Hephaestion hissed, leaning in close to brush his lips against Alexander's.

"I thought I was a tyrant?"

"Among other things."

"Your love?"

"Until Zeus himself strikes me down with his thunderbolt. And even then my ashes will drift on the wind, following after you."

"I am not sure whether that is utterly romantic or utterly morbid."

"Probably a bit of both. But you know...."

"I do. And I feel the same."


End file.
